The Law of Physics
by serendipity80xxx
Summary: Set between The Hole in the Heart (6.22) and Memories (7.1). A little story about the events that defined the beginning of Booth' & Brennan's relationship, focusing on the things we didn't see on TV. -Thank you for your encouraging words. I am glad the story managed to put a smile on somebody else's face.
1. The heart of the matter

_**The heart of the matter**_

BOOTH

For a long time he must have been staring at the ceiling into the dark while he listened to her quietly sobbing. He didn't want to close his eyes. Somewhere deep inside he knew he was tired, that he had to sleep. But he didn't want to sleep.

She was blaming herself. For something she could not have prevented. This wasn't fair.

A sudden rush of love filled him. Or something close to it. He did not allow himself to call it love. Feelings were too complicated, always too complicated when it came to her.

He would make it right, he swore. Damn Broadsky! How could that bastard Broadsky dare!

He felt angry about himself, too. He should have been able to do more. He should have prevented Vincent's death. They had known Broadsky was dangerous, that he was out of control. He should have taken better precautions. What a soldier he was, huh? In this he had proved as useless as just any of the squints.

Well, what did it all matter now. He could not bring Vincent back. Perhaps, there was a remedy to mend the hole Vincent's final words had carved so deeply into her heart. He should be the one to find it, to make her see that she had gotten those words all wrong. But how?

He wasn't even sure he had found the right words earlier. She did not believe in God. Talking about the universe was not enough either. Not for her. Some things just remained inexplicable. Even to him. Yes, he was ready to admit that it was quite a challenge to believe in God when HE had allowed for a such useless murder to have happened. This day had been a terrible day that might have had even his faith tempted. But then, it was better to believe cruel things happened for some greater reason. He would have faith for both of them. For her, too, when she needed it.

When she had acknowledged that if there had been existing a God then HE should have had let Vincent stay here with them - his heart had skipped a beat. And not just one. Was this his Bones? Her – admitting to even the slightest possibility that God existed?

He had felt – yes – love. It all seemed to come down to that.

They had talked about it. It was a possibility. Maybe one day it would be true – for both of them. Still, he felt he had to forbid himself thinking it was possible to happen. He had had his hopes up before only to end up brokenhearted. ...But then, if he kissed her now would it still alienate her? How much had she changed from the woman he had sought to love two years ago? He hated to face another rejection. But then, she HAD changed. He knew she had.

She wasn't the cold-hearted woman they all doomed her to be – lying here in his arms in the middle of the night crying over the death of her squintern. They were all wrong. All of them. Sweets and all the rest of them. He knew her better. He knew how below her all too rational protective shell lay so much warmth, understanding, compassion. And a deep empathy for those she understood to be suffering. He knew. And his heart grew full of affection knowing it. He only wished he could...

She shifted slightly which interrupted his thoughts. He felt the wet spot on his chest where her tears had moistened through his t-shirt and the warmth of her palm next to where her temple laid against his body.

She sighed. "Booth?"

"Yes?" He gently rubbed her arm while still holding her tight.

"I'm glad you didn't answer that phone call." She eventually said. Her free hand wandered across his chest obliviously petting his t-shirt.

"What?" He felt his blood rush downwards into regions that he did not intend it to go to. Oh God, not now. Silently he recited the names of all the saints he could think of. Okay. Focus. Now.

"I'm glad you didn't pick up the phone but asked Vincent to pick it up." She turned her face looking upwards to him. "I don't think I could bear to live on with you being dead." A tear ran down her cheek. She sighed again her hand still gently stroking him.

"Bones." He uttered hoarsely. He wasn't sure what he was more irritated about, her face being so close to his or her inadvertently proclaiming what she had just said which sounded so wrong – morally, at least - but yet so sweet, such a confession right out of her mouth. He understood her. He knew exactly how she meant things, how the world worked for her. He could not deny – obviously he was in love.

He had been angry. Very angry. He had told her so. He had tried to get away from her. Several times. But now, he was in love with her again. Now more than ever. He wasn't sure how to cope with it. Not yet.

She looked puzzled for a slight moment. Then a revelation struck her. "...Oh...That..., that came out very wrong, didn't it? … At least the part about Vincent... I did not mean to say that I'm happy that Vincent has died. I merely wanted to express, that I..."

"I know." He said and cleared his throat feeling that his voice still sounded much too hoarse and lacked strength. Again, he fought the sudden desire to kiss her. But he did not dare to spoil this moment. Her in his arms – if that was all he was going to get tonight he would be content. For anything more she had to be the one to come forward first. But then, surely this wasn't the right time and place. So soon after Vincent's death. "I'm glad, too, that I'm still alive. ...To be able to, you know, solve murder cases with you... And catch the bad guys out there..." He attempted a smile. Then he shed a glance at his weapon lying on his bedside table. Yes, he would be ready to protect her when Broadsky made his move. This time he would not meet Broadsky unprepared. He would hunt him down. He would get his revenge. He would make it all right.

Thinking about Broadsky was good. It helped him focus. It helped him to stay angry.

"We are a good team. You and me. In the end we get them all." The hint of a smile flashed her face and he felt her usual self-confidence had returned. He was glad. This was his Bones. The one he knew so well. The one he...

"Thank you." She said, her hand gently petted his right arm. "...Thank you for being there for me. You know, like now. When I'm scared. Or upset. You are always there for me." She moved up a bit closer to meet his face. "You are a good partner. A good friend..." She hesitated. He felt she wanted to say more but then she didn't.

He felt his blood stir again. To his embarrassment he wasn't sure if this time she could have missed it.

"Did your male parts just..."

"No. They didn't." He quickly insisted. Naming it did not make things any better. Oh God.

"Oh – ho" She chuckled. "Yes, they did."

He pretended to clear his throat, lingering. But obviously, there was no way out of this. Not when it came to her scientific way of clinging onto facts anyway. He sighed. "Well, if they did - maybe it is because my er... 'male parts'... are irritated that half of you is lying on top of them."

"Oh." She just said. Then nothing for a short while. "I could go back onto the couch if the physical contact makes you feel uncomfortable." She almost moved to get up.

"No!" He held her tight. He was beyond confusion now about what he really wanted. All he knew was that he didn't want her to leave either. "Bones, look..." He didn't know how to say this right. "You're a beautiful woman," he continued. He was forced to clear his throat again. "...And me – being a man – of course, I, ..." Oh, this felt just like it came out all so wrong. Damn. "Well, I am attracted to a..., to..."

"Booth. I understand," she interrupted, her face barely an inch away from his. "Today has been very stressful. You could have easily been the one that was shot."

He was surprised. But he understood why she had to deal with it all in her detached scientific way. But, she was wrong. She was strong. If he had been the one that was killed today she would have coped. He – in turn – was the one that would have gone mad – losing her. He could not bear to think of it, knowing what both of them today had come so close to losing.

He was a gambler. Still. He had to push things forward. He had to try. They might not have too much time left together. Tomorrow he had to go after Broadsky. They both knew the danger. Broadsky would kill him when given the chance.

"I don't wanna have any regrets, Bones." His voice was hoarse again. To full with emotion.

"I don't know what that means." She said, her deep blue eyes faithfully clinging onto his dark ones, waiting for him to explain.

"There were so many things we let pass by. ...So many things that we didn't do …"

"Like, sleeping together..." She chipped in.

"And tomorrow, or actually today, in a few hours I will have to go after Broadsky and..." He stopped, realizing what she had just said. "What?"

"We never slept with each other." she emphasized.

Her words lingered. Time and space between them felt suspended to him. His blood rushed through him again. Desire tingled all over his body. He did not yet trust to believe it to be true. "Do you want us to sleep with each other?" He finally asked in total amazement.

"Yes." Her answer came quick and in all earnest.

He did not expect it. Even now, he still did not. "Now?" He asked. Confused. Expecting from her a "no" which would postpone things again to an indefinite time. They had done that before. Agreed that eventually things were bound to happen between them, just not at that point, or any foreseeable point in the near future.

"Yes." She said again.

A split of a second her "yes" knocked him off track. All he then managed was to utter her name. "Bones." His name for her.

He wanted to smile. Wanted to do anything to reassure her. But he couldn't find how to do it. Emotions flushed through him. Seven years. Eight almost. They should have done this seven years ago. Now he felt nervous overstepping that boundary.

She waited for him to make the move. He felt she was nervous, too.

"Well, we already talked about doing it... And we both agreed that it would be quite satisfying if we did it. We're very compatible... sexually." The hint of a smile caressed her face.

He was lost. "Bones." He whispered her name again. Still, he did not move, such was his state of disbelief. Her lips were barely half an inch away from his now, tempting. He could not explain what held him back.

"You do not wanna have intercourse with me..?" She asked, hesitantly, bewildered.

The disappointment in her voice shocked him. No! He did. She got it all wrong.

"Bones, ...it's not that I don't..., well I..." His mouth felt all dry. God, he wanted so much to say the right thing. What made it so hard? All he wanted was to love her. "I wanna make love with you." His voice cracked.

He looked into her eyes. He was ready to risk his heart again. Yet a part of him deep down inside still needed to be assured she was ready to risk hers too. "It's just..." He hesitated. Something in him demanded her to be sure about this. "...We're talking about M-A-K-I-N-G L-O-V-E here, right? There will be no going back once we've crossed that line."

"I don't wanna go back." She said. "You told me that two people can break the law of physics, can occupy the same space at the same time... I wanna try that, I wanna understand how that is possible."

His fingers reached for her face. "Right," he said. The anticipation made them tremble. The prospect of of finally, finally – after all those years they knew each other – making love to her. Getting emotionally and physically involved with her still seemed much too incredible to him. The thought of it was overwhelming. She'd given him permission. She was ready to drop all her defenses – for him. She was his. Finally. God.

"Well?" She said impatiently. "Traditionally, at this point – the male would engage in taking the lead, by kissing and petting the female – thus stimulating her to become aroused sufficiently to agree to later participate in the actual act of copulation... If you feel uncomfortable with that I could take the lead ..."

Finally he pulled her close. No more words. They were not needed. His lips soughed hers. He tasted her. Deep. Demanding. Not like any of the kisses they had ever shared before. They didn't need to say it. He knew now what he wanted. Right now – he wanted her.

This was better than any dream, any imagination. This was real. He wouldn't stop. He didn't need oxygen. Not yet, not for a while.

He turned her around, ended up on top of her. His hands stroke through her hair, caressed her face. He covered her with more kisses. In between two kisses eventually he allowed for a moment for their lips to part. "I like the traditional way." He said content, happy.

His lips found her again. Her cheek, the lobe of her ear, then working their way down her throat. He felt her shiver. Good. He wanted to give her pleasure.

She tugged his shirt and he obliged and took it off. His hands in turn found her warm skin underneath the sweatshirt which he had borrowed her. It wasn't needed, not right now.

He'd touched her a thousand times. Hugged her. Even kissed her. But never like this. For a moment he halted. She did not wear anything underneath the sweatshirt. Feveredly he pulled off the sweatshirt and took in her beauty. He'd never seen her naked. "You're beautiful." He whispered against her skin, then started to kiss her all over again.

"I know" she replied. It almost made him laugh. His Bones. So true to herself.

"You're very pleasing to look at, too." She said. He felt her hands wandering over his body, examining him.

He had no doubt she would catalogue every inch, every bone of his body. He would let her. He took in the sensations her fingers left wherever they touched his skin. He loved her. It was much too soon. Yet still he knew he did.

She demanded the lead. He let her have it, rolled on his back, pulled her on top of him. She bent down. Her lips found his. He remembered them in his coma dream. Had it been anything like this?

Slow, he thought, they had to go slow. He wanted this to never end. His urge to make love to her right away was strong. He hadn't slept with any woman since his breakup with Hannah. He had not wanted to. He had not felt he needed it. But now, with her in his arms, her kisses hot and greedy on his skin – a celibate man of several months could not respond to that with patience.

They took off each others remaining clothes. Giggling. Content. Aroused. Something had changed tonight. Something between them. It was too soon to name it. There would be time for talk later. For now, the physical urge demanded to be fulfilled.

He slept with her. Afterwards he would not recall it in too much detail. He felt in a state of trance. It was beyond what he'd imagined it to be like. Being that close to her. Finally, making love, occupying that same space – with HER.

He recalled commanding himself to go slow. The months of celibacy urged for release. Yet, he wanted to go at her pace. He needed to be the one – of all her lovers – to give her the utmost pleasure.

It didn't take them very long. There would be another time for making love slowly, gently. A time to linger.

But not tonight. Tonight two bodies became one, occupying the same space with a need for urgency. Too much time had been lost already. He never wanted this to end. But then he felt her shiver with pleasure and he let go.

He collapsed next to her, breathless, exhausted. Happy.

For a minute neither of them moved.

"That was extremely satisfying." She then declared.

Somewhere in the state of exhaustion into which he had drifted he realized he was glad. Of course, past girlfriends had attested him to be a skilled lover. But this was different. Things were always different with Bones. Something inside him longed for her approval.

He let out a grunting sound, not ready to leave his state of exhaustion yet. He could have stayed like this forever, he smiled.

She chuckled.

"What?" He replied weakly, fearing that Bones was not the one to let him linger in this state of bliss for much longer.

"Total exhaustion in the male would suggest it's been a while since..."

He sighed. "I haven't slept with anyone since Hannah." It was not a topic he liked to discuss, let alone to have her execute a scientific evaluation about it.

Hannah. Somehow he wished he hadn't mentioned her, hadn't said out aloud her name. At least not now. Not at this moment.

He almost feared the magic spell of the last hour could be broken. He had to preserve it. It had taken them years to come this far. Now they couldn't go back. Or could they?

He had to fight his fears, make sure her heart was his. At least he couldn't go back and he didn't want to. With Bones things were different, though. What if she wanted to go back to 'just being partners' tomorrow? He couldn't bear it.

"Bones." He silently bid goodbye to his desire to linger in this state of complete physical exhaustion any longer, "Tonight..., this... means something, right? I..., I didn't sleep with any woman since..., well, ...for me, sleeping with a woman, making love, ...it HAS TO MEAN something. I didn't want to sleep with anyone else. I..., I wanted that person to be you..."

There. It was out. Still, the fear lingered. He touched her face, gently brushed away a strand of hair. She was beautiful. She was so beautiful tonight. He took all his courage. "This isn't a one-night-stand, right? We won't go back after tonight? Because..., because I can't. I can't do that again."

"You can't sleep with me again?" Confusion lay in her blue eyes.

"Bones, what I mean is, I, ...I can't make love to you without completely losing my heart to you again."

Memories of that night outside at the Reflecting Pool came to his mind. Their misguided conversation. His confession that he loved her. Her rejection. Her painful words.

He sighed again. He had to know. "You told me once before that you don't want me to love you. But I will not be able to help it, not if we continue to sleep with each other. I can't have the one without the other." His heart lay bare, open. Now it lay in her power to love it or crush it.

"No. I have changed Booth. I have become quite strong. I told you I would." She took the hand that still caressed her face and kissed it.

"You have." He felt happiness spread through him and smiled. Then he kissed her. Long. Deep. As if to prove that things definitely had changed between them. He needed to touch her, needed to feel she was real, she was his.

"Booth?" She asked and he stopped to kiss her seeing her frown.

"What is it?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I do not completely understand the feeling, ...but I think I am in love with you Booth." Her hand brushed his shoulder, his arm. Her frown then became deeper. "What if I do not know how to have a REAL relationship? What if I am not good at being in love with one person permanently...? I am not sure I..."

God, he loved her so much. Enough to brush away all her doubts with another kiss. This time soft and gentle. She obliged him and waves of rekindled desire passed through him. "Don't worry, I am gonna teach you everything there is to know..." He whispered and then slowly, unwillingly fought against his desire to make love to her again. He caught the time on the alarm clock. They both would be spent in the morning. In roughly 2 hours they would need to get up again. There was no way around that. With Broadsky still out there it wasn't the best time to be careless.

"We should get some sleep." He said but moved no more than an inch away from her.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I am keeping you from your sleep. But you need to get Broadsky tomorrow..., today." She corrected herself and rose.

Confused he grabbed her hand. "Where are you going?"

"Onto the couch." Still naked she was looking around for her clothes.

"What! Why?" He was flabbergasted. What was happening?

"Well, you need your sleep. And I will go back onto the couch so as not to detain you any longer..." She moved to leave the bed but he held her back.

A thought dawned on him. Jesus. "Oh, no, no, no, no. I meant we should get some sleeep, here, together, in this bed." He still needed to adjust to how literally she took everything. He hadn't meant for her to leave. "The bed is much more confortable than the terrible couch. And it is certainly big enough for two people." First lesson – lovers slept in the same bed.

"But the couch was fine. And I don't mind sleeping on the couch." Now she appeared to be the puzzled one.

"But I do mind. I want you here, with me, in my arms. Come here." He smiled when she moved back beside him. Back where she belonged. "It's the safest place. Broadsky will have to get past me to get to you..." He patted on the pillow next to his indicating to her to lie down again.

"Booth," she however still remained sitting, "why did you let me sleep on the couch when it wasn't as safe as the bed?" She looked at him questioningly.

He went hot. He would never ever have endangered her safety. If there had been the smallest doubt, he... It took him a moment to grasp her way of thinking. How she had meant it. Of course, for her it was a question of logic, she had not meant it as any kind of accusation. God, they still would have a long way to go to learn to understand each other.

"Bones," his voice was full with love now and almost hoarse, "I couldn't ask you to stay over at my place and then expect us to sleep in the same bed, now could I?" Even if I had wanted to – he added silently to himself. It didn't matter now. He now had more than he'd ever dreamt of.

"Yes. That would have been weird." She acknowledged. "...But I can see why you would want me to stay with you in your bed now." She smiled, finally moving to lie down with him again.

He put his arm around her. Her head rested against his shoulder. He kissed her bare shoulder, took in her scent. She soon drifted into sleep, he listened to her even breaths. "I needed you to come to me," he whispered against her hair. And then, "I love you."

Maybe it was too soon. But it was the truth. And no matter what tomorrow would bring, whether tomorrow Broadsky killed him or not, at least for tonight he was the happiest of all men.


	2. Morning ever after

_**Morning ever after**_

BOOTH

A noise made him stir. His sniper senses alerted he was fully awake in an instant as he grabbed for his gun on the bedside table, his other arm instinctively shielding the woman next to him.

For 30 seconds he remained motionless, the gun sharply pointed at the closed bedroom door, and listened for any more suspicious noises from the other room. There were none.

So far he had only been reacting. A set of motions trained so well, so thoroughly, that he could perform them at any moment without thinking.

Now, after a full minute without anything happening, without any apparent threat, the events of the past night came back to him. They had made love. Gosh, he had slept with Bones. And she had told him that she was in love with him...

He could have believed it all to have been only another of his twisted dreams. Ever since his brain tumor he constantly had had parts of his coma dream coming back to him from time to time. Most often, it had been the part where he had imagined Bones and him to make love. He hadn't found any remedy to make him stop dreaming of it. Running through the woods for 10 miles would exhaust his body, but not his mind. He had gone for 10 rounds of killing imaginary targets at the shooting range right before bedtime, yet still he had woken up all sweaty and wildly disappointed when it all had turned out to be only another dream and not reality. He had cursed himself for his stupid thoughts. He had even briefly considered going back to Afghanistan. Anything. Anything at all – to squash his subconscious mind. Sweets would have had a field day with his messed up mind. Thank God, Sweets had never known.

The remedy to it all was right in his arms. He knew that now. And she was real, so real this morning.

In her sleep she had turned from his shoulder closer towards him. Her palm rested on his chest, her head right on top of it, just as she had clinged onto him when she had cried for Vincent earlier that night.

Only now, both of them were naked. Her left leg had entangled his leg. Feeling the warmth of her full body against his he felt his desire rise to make love to her again. He gently kissed her on top of her head where her hair had fallen loosely over her face covering it for the most part. She did not stir.

He glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Five to seven. If they were aiming to be back at work at 9 they still had time. Damn, he thought, remembering Broadsky and all of yesterday's terrible events. On any other day he would have called in sick, would have told them he had a terrible migraine again. That he would have to stay in bed for the remainder of the week. With her. Well, he would leave out to inform the FBI about that last part.

But not today. Not with Broadsky out there on the loose, killing people. Not while Broadsky was still any threat to anybody of the team. Not while he was any threat to HER.

This was personal. Killing Vincent had made it all personal. And he knew none of them could rest as long as Broadsky wasn't caught. SHE certainly wouldn't, not even when she was exhausted. He wouldn't either, fearing for her safety, fearing that Broadsky could get to her.

No. They had to get Broadsky first. And he would. Anything to ease her mind. Anything to seek revenge for Vincent's death.

By God, he would kill the bastard! Cold rage stirred in him. He exhaled. Well, no, that would be murder. And Seeley Booth did not murder people. But – he could aim poorly and hit Broadsky where it really hurt, now couldn't he? Those things happened to the best of soldier. Those things sometimes could not be prevented in the heat of the moment, now could they?

And then, when Broadsky was out of their minds, out of their lives, they would...

Another noise made him grab his gun at once. He had to get up to check out the rest of the apartment. He could not risk not doing it, could not risk anything. Not while she was here. In his bed.

Smoothly he slid out of bed, noiselessly, like a soldier. He didn't want to wake her up, didn't want to leave her side. But he had to.

She moved her head. Mumbled something in her sleep but thankfully did not wake up.

Without a sound he opened the bedroom door. He was naked, except for his gun. Oh well, this was his apartment and any intruder would not get much time to enjoy the sight anyway. He checked the living room, then the corridor. The apartment door was locked from the inside, bolted. If Broadsky had gotten into the apartment he must have come through a window, up a drain – which given Broadsky's physical shape was highly unlikely. But well, Broadsky had managed to sneak in before, had threatened him in his own apartment. And this time there would be no words, just a bullet waiting to kill him. And he couldn't risk that.

He quickly went through the kitchen but could not detect anything out of the ordinary. He went to the bathroom the gun still sharply pointed, ready to react in the split of a second if necessary. He pushed aside the shower curtain. Nothing. He went to Parker's room. Looked under the bed. He felt stupid – did he expect a monster to come out from under there?

Still, the adrenaline rushed through his body. Made him check out every room once more, thoroughly eliminating every possible threat. Only then he returned to the bedroom.

He stopped at the door, took a moment there to look at her.

She had turned in her sleep. Had dragged the blanket with her so that her backside now lay half uncovered.

He drew closer. He locked the gun and put it down on the bedside table again. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and lifted the blanket just enough to look at her full body in broad daylight. God, she was beautiful. So beautiful. He instantly felt remorse. What was he doing, checking her out while she was sleeping naked in his bed. Jesus, he acted like he was 15. What if she woke up? What was he ever going to say then!

He wanted her. Wanted to kiss her until she would respond to his kisses. Wanted to touch every inch of her body with his hands and feel her hands all over his body in turn.

He sighed. She looked exhausted. Beautiful, but exhausted. Surely the desperate thoughts about Vincent's final words had kept her awake all night until she had come to him. They had made love only two hours ago. It didn't matter how much he longed to have her again. He couldn't. Al least not now. She needed her sleep. Needed every minute of sleep. Soon enough they would have to get up anyway.

God. He needed a cold shower. A very cold one.

The shower did help. At least to some extent. He had left the bathroom door open. His gun always within reach. They had to get Broadsky. There was no way they could keep living like this.

He smiled. THEY. They were an item now. His Bones was in love with him.

He decided he would make some fabulous breakfast for her. Eggs and bacon. And freshly grounded coffee, too. He was famous for his breakfast.

He went back to the bedroom a towel around his waist to find something to wear for the day.

"Booth." She sleepily turned her head towards him, then opened her eyes. "How late is it?"

He came closer, sat down on the bed right next to her. "Hey." He said and caressed her face with his hand. "Good morning!" He kissed her, tasted her lips. "It's seven twenty. Still early," he murmured barely moving away from her lips.

She frowned. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" She touched his hair that was still wet from the shower. "I am going to be late." She sat up.

He swept a strand of hair behind her ear, moved towards her again. "We have plenty of time." He whispered kissing her again.

"No, Booth." She drew back from his kiss. "I haven't brushed my teeth yet!" She protested.

Despite her protest he pulled her close, not willing to let her go. "You taste fine to me." As to prove it he tasted her lips, her tongue, deep and long. Slowly he felt her reluctance melt. "No complains here." He murmured before he went on to kiss her neck.

"I should get a shower." She said but she did not move.

His kisses became more urgent, he took her reluctance to get up for real as a sign to carry on. "...In a minute." He said. He had no intention to let her go.

God, he needed to make love to her again. Now. Right now. Everything else just had to wait.

He pulled away the blanket. Slowly made his way down to her most intimate parts. He felt her shiver under his kisses. Felt her exhale sharply whenever he touched another delicate spot.

She tugged his towel. Then pulled him close and on top of her.

Tonight. Tonight, they would go slow, he promised. For now – he enjoyed her urgency, her desire to want him to make love to her right away again.

He'd always imagined their lovemaking to be nothing but passionate. Because she was a passionate woman. Because she was his Bones. With her it would always be everything – or nothing at all. Nothing in between. Nothing held back. No false pretense.

"I love you." He whispered hoarsely. He remembered he had not said it yet. Had not said it to her face. He needed her to know.

"I love you, too, Booth." She panted. She pulled him closer, her legs wrapped around his body, clinging to him. Urging him to break the law of physics again. For her. With her.

They moved faster, found the that same rhythm again. Both reached the climax within seconds of each other.

Jesus. Exhausted, he buried his head in her hair. It had been amazing. This time even more than their lovemaking two hours before.

She was right, he thought before he almost drifted into sleep. They were very compatible – sexually at least. God, it would be so much pleasure to do it all again.

He smiled to himself realizing that he already thought about making love to her again while his body had not even recovered yet from making love to her this time...

Making love to her again would stay a dangerously tempting thought for the rest of the day. It would raise the bar to catch that bastard Broadsky quickly, to get over with him once and for all. And then head back to her to make love to her again and again for the rest of the week. They had to make up for seven lost years. And he intended to make up for every single one of them.

However, unfortunately first they had to get up now. Leave each other's presence. He hated it. Hated even the thought of it.

The alarm clock showed seven forty-seven. OK, so they had lost track of time.

"Booth?" She sighed heavily.

Something in her voice alerted him. He raised his head to meet her face and to kiss her passionately one last time before they would definitely need to get going. Tears in her eyes made him stop. "What's wrong?" He asked concerned, confused. What did he do wrong? Had he hurt her making love to her?

"I don't want you to go after Broadsky." She said. A tear ran down her cheek. "I don't want to loose you."

"Shh!" His heart was full with love for her. He gently wiped away the tear with his thump, cupped her face in his palm. What could he say – they both knew it was his job. Both knew the dangers of it.

"I have to stop him, Bones. I have to stop him from killing people." He kissed her cheek, the spot where the tear had moistened it a moment ago. He let his lips brush over hers. Being lovers, and not just partners anymore, would have an impact on their professional relationship, and could certainly complicate matters. They would have to figure out how to deal with it.

Her hands came up, petted his arms. She clung to him. "I know. I know you will have to go after him. I know you cannot stop until you have him in custody. It scares me." More tears came to her eyes.

"No, no, no, no." He murmured. Helpless to see her cry. "I will be careful, okay?"

He pulled her close again, kissed her. Then moved only an inch away from her lips. "I have something to come home to now... I am not alone."

She looked questioningly at him. "I don't understand."

He smiled. Then kissed her again. He took the time to linger until he felt her relax, felt her respond to his kiss. They would be late. He didn't care. He had gained so much in the wee hours of this morning, so much now worth living for. "I have you, ...have you in my life now," he said, "right?"


	3. Irrational feelings

_**Irrational feelings**_

BRENNAN

Objectively, this really turned out to be a terrible day at work. Ever since she had left Booth' car she couldn't stop thinking when she would see him again – or even worse – whether she would see him again at all. The truth was, she missed him, missed him terribly. She wished this had been just another of their regular cases and imagined how he would come by to pick her up to interview another suspect...

Only 90 minutes of her working day had passed so far. Her thoughts revolved constantly around what Booth was doing at that moment, whether he had gotten any new information about Broadsky's whereabouts – and whether that new information would mean for him to have to go after Broadsky right away. She knew, he would call her before he went after Broadsky. Over the years his way of working on a case had become so entangled with her work and so dependent on the work of the squints that most often he would inform 'his' squints before even passing the information to the FBI itself.

Still, today she feared for that one call to come – that he would finally set off to go after Broadsky.

God, she did not understand it – how could people seek to be in love with someone, when being in love brought up all those thoughts and fears to loose the beloved person? Being on her own, depending only on her own – at least it meant that no one could leave her, that she would not loose another person again.

But then last night – in his arms – her own concept had felt shallow against the wish to be loved, the desire not to be alone any longer. To be loved by HIM.

And it had been amazing. Without a doubt sleeping with Booth had been extremely satisfying in the physical aspect. Booth had an amazing body and he knew well how to use it. He appeared to be a skilled lover.

The intensity of their lovemaking had amazed her. There definitively had been something beyond the mere physical aspect, something more, something deeper, something that she had never felt before. Since she did not recall having had any similar previous experience she could only presume that it had something to do with having strong feelings of affection towards the other person. She believed she had experienced what people commonly refered to as 'having butterflies in the stomach'. Scientifically, of course, it was impossible for butterflies to survive in the stomach. But she now was able to understand the concept behind it and why people would describe it this way.

She wondered whether Booth had felt the same. When Booth had told her during their sexual intercourse this morning that he loved her she had responded that she loved him, too, – which of course had not been entirely a lie. For now she knew she was definitely in love with him. However, she was still unclear about the exact difference between 'being in love' with someone and actually loving someone. Perhaps she even already loved Booth which she understood to be a state beyond merely 'being in love'. Perhaps she did but due to lack of experience she was unaware that she did. God, this all turned out to be more complex than she had thought. Perhaps she should consult Angela for further advice?

But Angela had gone over to Hodgins' office to help him determine what Broadsky had taken from Matt Leishenger's wallet. The case, of course, had top priority. Dr. Saroyan was busy with the paperwork to have Vincent's body released for repatriation to his home country.

Vincent. Poor Vincent was dead. She sighed, forcing out of her mind the picture from the day before of Vincent lying in puddle of his own blood. No, she would not cry again. Not today, not here. She had work to do. But she feared she would not be able to concentrate very well today.

Her mobile vibrated and she opened it. Booth had sent her a text message, asking her how she was and that he would be meeting with Matt Leishenger's boss in the hope of getting any new clue about Broadsky's whereabouts.

Just like any other day, just like any other case, she thought. But then fear suddenly choked her.

She was angry. What was the point of telling someone in the morning that you loved them when you would loose them again on the same day? Loving someone – viewed in broad daylight – was a stupid stupid idea. Why had she thought it would be different this time? Every person she'd ever loved in her life had left her. Oh God, she did not want Booth to die. She did not want him to leave.

She searched for the water bottle in her desk. She tried to calm herself down, tried to breath evenly.

She told to herself that everything would turn out to be just fine. That Booth would be careful. That objectively, Booth even had an advantage over Broadsky as long as Broadsky believed him to be dead. But then - all it took was one bullet – one damn bullet and... No, no, no!

She decided that she could not sit around any longer in her office and simply wait for the inevitable call to come. She knew Booth would wait for her to text back. But she couldn't text Booth she was fine. Not yet.

What she could do was help him. She would do anything in her power to increase Booth' advantage over Broadsky. She would do what she knew best – have Matt Leishenger's bones speak to her.

Looking at the cleaned bones she fought hard not to cry realizing that cleaning the bones had been one of the last things Vincent had done before was murdered. Only two hours later he had been dead.

With a heavy sigh she took up Matt Leishenger's skull to have another look at it. Maybe yesterday she had missed something in the bruises that Broadsky had inflicted on Leishenger that could be valuable information to lead Booth to Broadsky. She fetched the microscope and methodically slowly scanned not only the skull but also bone for bone again. However the bruises on Leishenger's skull appeared most intriguing to her. Something seemed weird about them, she just couldn't tell what, couldn't tell yet.

Angela came by snacking on some crackers which she obviously considered to be healthy for her unborn child. She offered her to have some, too.

But she was busy looking at Leishenger's skull. A new thought with regard to the combat methods used by Broadsky in the attack on Leishenger had just dawned to her. She told Angela about it.

Angela soon went away seeing her deep in thoughts brooding over the bones.

The thought about Broadsky's combat methods which had seemed so fruitful to her in the first place soon turned out to be a dead end. She just could not grasp what Matt Leishenger's skull was supposed to tell her, some connection seemed to be missing, or she just didn't make it and therefore the skull did not reveal any new findings to her. She was frustrated. She hoped her lack of concentration was only temporary and due only to lack of sleep and her underlying concern for Booth' life.

Booth. She had forgotten to answer to his text message. She... Wait, there was an unusual pattern in one of the bruises on the bone. What could have caused that?

Angela came back in and asked her if she was trying to get Matt Leishenger's skull to talk to her. Of course, it wouldn't. Leishenger was dead. It then deemed her that Angela had meant it as a joke, 'to lighten the mood' – as Angela put it.

But she couldn't be cheerful. Not when she couldn't figure out the clues in the bones. Not while Broadsky was still out there and Booth had to put his life on the line to get Broadsky. She had to keep working. For Booth. And for Vincent.

"The mastoid process is generally no a target in close-quarter combat. Perhaps I should examine it microscopically." She said to Angela.

"You told me that an hour ago." Angela said. "What is going on? ...I mean, is this about Vincent?"

She was confused. Of course it was about Vincent. Broadsky had killed Vincent. "Yes." But Vincent was dead. And Booth wasn't. Now, it was about saving Booth. "And..." She continued and almost smiled. She had to tell Angela, she need to tell someone. "...I got into bed with Booth last night."

Angela looked at her astonished, all words seemed to fail her.

Had she done the wrong thing telling her? Did Angela disapprove of her and Booth finally sleeping with each other? She lost her countenance. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

Thankfully Angela did not disapprove, even though she pointed out that it was strange that she had gotten into bed with Booth only that shortly after Vincent's death. Angela's inquiring mind then started running. "Wait – what exactly happened after you..., after you crawled into bed with Booth?"

She remembered how she and Booth had slept with each other and smiled. She took a second to contemplate where exactly she should begin.

Hodgins came into the room talking excitedly about the mass spectrometer results from the bullet that had killed Vincent. Before he could tell them his exciting news Angela started to yell at him to go away, to tell Cam about it instead, to go away at once.

Brennan felt sorry for him seeing his confusion and the disappointment on Hodgins face but Angela wouldn't stop yelling until he had left the room again and was out of earshot. Only then Angela turned to her again.

"Now. Tell me – EVERYTHING! Do not spare me any detail..." Angela commanded.

She smiled again. Of course Angela would demand to know all the details. "Well, at first I slept on the couch and he slept on the bed..."

"Hmph! He should have offered you to sleep in the bed!" Angela interrupted.

"But he did!" She replied. "I told him I was smaller, therefore I would fit on the couch much better." She smiled remembering how they had said goodnight to each other. She was glad that later she had come to him. That he had held her in his arms. That they both had agreed to sleep with each other. That finally they had set things off to happen.

"And...?" Angela said impatiently. "So how did you end up in Booth' bed then? And what exactly happened in bed? Details, I need details!"

"I was upset about Vincent's death. About what he had said to me just before he died." She continued. "So I went to Booth. To ask Booth how Vincent had meant what he'd said."

"In the middle of the night? Wow!"

A member of the research staff passed by the entrance of the bone room and Angela almost yelled at him, too, to go away. "So you two talked about Vincent...? Let me get this straight – you were in the same bed with the most gorgeous FBI agent between here and Honolulu – and you talked about Vincent?"

"At first, yes. But then I was so sad, so I asked if I could stay and we lay down and he put his arm around me."

"Wow." Angela said again. "Sweety, I..." But then she stopped. "Wait a minute – did you actually sleep with Booth then?"

She smiled remembering how she and Booth had had sex. Twice. "Yes." She finally said, realizing that Angela was about to burst with curiosity. Surely that could not be good for Angela's unborn child.

"Whoa, wow. So how was it...? And how did you get from crying over Vincent to sleeping with Booth?"

She wondered how much detail she was supposed to give. Surely Angela did not expect a full description of her and Booth' sexual activities last night, or did she? "It was... amazing. He's a very skilled lover."

"I can imagine that!" Angela chipped in. "Oh Sweety, I'm so happy for you and Booth!" Angela embraced her. "Tell me, that's not it. Tell me you're going to have fabulous sex with Booth again!"

"I already had. This morning." She smiled, still being embraced by Angela. "...That's why I was late this morning."

"Oh my God!" Angela let her free. To look at her. "You were late because Booth couldn't take his hands off of you! Wow, …wow!"

"Actually it was the two of us – I couldn't keep my hands off of Booth either." She chuckled.

"I can totally believe that!" Angela said, stretching her back to relieve the weight from her by now rather enormous belly.

"Do you wanna sit down Angela? ...I can't figure out what is weird with this skull anyway. We can go to my office." While they went over Brennan remembered that she still hadn't answered to Booth' text message. Maybe she should call him – but deep down inside she was just too afraid, afraid that he would tell her that he had to leave and that she would be in tears – or worse, that she would beg him not to go – she was afraid to distract him from what he had to do.

"So, you and Booth, it is set to be a permanent thing now...? You surely wanna go back to have more amazing sex with that man! This cannot have been a one-night-stand!" Angela dropped herself on her sofa as gentle as she could with her now 8-months pregnant body.

She checked her mobile on her desk. No more messages or phone calls. She assumed Booth was busy, too. "Booth says he couldn't do that." She finally replied to Angela's question. Had it been a question?

"What!" Angela exclaimed. "He can't have a relationship with you? I don't get it!"

"No, I mean, he can't make love to me without falling in love with me again – that's what he said." Her cell phone beeped and her heart sunk into her boots. It was Booth.

"Again...?" She heard Angela ask her surprised, but she gulped down the fear and answered her phone. "Booth...," she said. Then her voice cracked.

"I'm at the port in Wilmington. A guard spotted Broadsky entering the port an hour ago." Booth was breathing heavily, she could tell he was moving fast while talking to her.

She felt paralyzed, unable to say anything, He was already there, already on the hunt after Broadsky. "Are you there...?" Booth asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Yes," she said, "I..., I...," she stammered. "Be careful!" She finally said before her voice broke again.

"I will." He said. Feeling her fear he added, "I won't take any risks, ok?"

"Okay," she managed to say seeing that Angela watched her closely.

"I gotta go." Booth said. "I love you."

For the split of a second she contemplated whether she should tell it to him, too. Angela was in the room, and it still felt awkward. But then she thought that it could be the last time they would ever talk to each other. "I love you, too." She said quickly, hoping that he had still gotten that last part before he had hung up.

Angela met her with a huge smile on her face. "Oh Sweety!" She heaved herself up from couch and rubbed her strained carpal bones that obviously weren't used to lifting that much weight.

A thought struck her. The skull, of course, the injuries on Matt Leishenger's skull... Broadsky must have caused them with his bare hands!

Without any further word to Angela she hastened back into the bone room to have another look at Leishenger's skull. It all made sense now.

"Hodgins!" She shouted. "Hodgins!"

Hodgins was there in under 10 seconds. "I seem to be everybody's favorite person to yell at today."

She ignored his complaint. "Hodgins, I know now why we did not find any particulates in the bruises on Matt Leishenger's skull." She took up the skull and held it upside down so that Hodgins could see the discolorations on the mastoid process. "Broadsky did not use any weapon, he struck Leishenger's head with his bare fist." She added.

"What?" Hodgins said rather disbelieving while he stared at the skull. "I do not believe that is possible. The bone is too thick to leave such an impression. The force one would have to administer..." She saw him quickly calculating in his head. "The force... it would..., it would break one's hand."

"Broadsky struck Leishenger with his right hand." She continued. "According to Booth he's a right hand shooter." She said as calmly as she could.

"Oh my God! You think Broadsky has broken his hand when he hit Leishenger. He can't aim with a broken hand!" Hodgins almost shouted in excitement.

"He killed Vincent aiming from that crane – hundreds of meters away..." She objected.

"Yeah – but, up there he had time to set it all up. He probably took a stand to adjust the riffle. Now – if Booth gets him unprepared... We should tell Booth!" Hodgins said still excited.

"Booth is already chasing after Broadsky. A guard spotted Broadsky an hour ago at the port in Wilmington." She shivered while she said it.

"But we should tell Booth anyway! This might save his life!" Hodgins insisted.

She called Booth. He took the call but then there was no answer. "He's there but he's not answering," she said to Hodgins unsure what to do.

"Maybe he can't." Hodgins replied.

Hodgins then took over the phone and he and Booth agreed on communicating by Booth clicking with his riffle once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'. In few words Hodgins and her told Booth about their theory that Broadsky had broken his right hand. The call then got disconnected, whether by Booth himself or by something else she couldn't say. And she didn't want to think about it. All they could do now was wait. Wait – and hope Booth would get Broadsky before Broadsky got any chance to kill Booth.

They were all there, waiting, upstairs in the sitting area on the gallery. Even Sweets had come over to the Jeffersonian to wait for any news from Booth.

At first she refused to sit with them all. Declined Angela's kind offer to have a tea with them to calm down her agony. But after a while she just could not sit alone in her office anymore and stare at the mobile phone that wouldn't ring. Why didn't he call? What if something had gone wrong? What if he was hurt lying somewhere and she wasn't there to help him? After all she was still his partner and she should be out there with him, and not just waiting here with the squints.

In the end she made her way up to the gallery and accepted a cup of tea from Cam.

When the call finally came she grabbed the phone and answered it at once. For the split of a second she was disappointed that it wasn't Booth but another agent from the Bureau calling her. A female agent told her that Booth had gotten Broadsky. That he had had to shoot a tenacious Broadsky in order to get him, but that it had only been a shot into the leg and now Booth had gone with Broadsky to make sure Broadsky would be taken into custody and would be locked away forever.

Everybody in the room cheered after she'd told them that Booth had gotten Broadsky. Angela smiled at her knowing about the magnitude of her relief that Booth was save.

Cam shortly afterwards got a phone call informing her that Vincent's body had been released by the authorities and could be repatriated to his home country now. Remembering what had happened to Vincent drowned their cheerful mood. Once more they sat together, saddened that they had lost one of their own until Sweets suggested for them all to meet in the evening to have a little wake for Vincent before his body would finally be sent home.

She did not understand what difference it made for Vincent whether they would all meet to mourn him or if they wouldn't. Vincent was dead, therefore he did not care anymore. She suspected there was some kind of social aspect involved for people to met up to mourn collectively.

Later, on her way back to the Jeffersonian she was confused whether she was supposed to bring flowers to a wake or not. It was to late to ask Angela about it. She passed by at a flower shop and bought a hydrangea. She found it reminded her of Britain – and Vincent had been very British.

Her heart leaped when she saw Booth standing with the rest of the group just outside of the Jeffersonian. She had not seen him since this morning, had been so frightened for his life in the meantime. Now he was standing there, alive, handsome in his coat, shirt and tie. She felt the desire to kiss him again, but of course she wouldn't do that in front of everybody else. So they both just exchanged looks, both knowing that they wanted to continue what had begun between them last night.

When everybody else finally went inside she linked her arm with Booth'. For some reason he looked sad to her. But when she led him inside a hint of a smile was on his face. Also for her it felt good to be with him, to be close to him. They sat the closest together as they could without raising anyone's suspicion. Neither of them both felt the desire to make the new status of their relationship known to the public yet. It was too new, too precious yet – and she remembered Booth once saying that what went on between them belonged only to the two of them. Now, after what had happened between them the previous night – this was even more crucial.

She yawned. She had slept very little and longed for a bath and the coziness of her bed. Also she still had to review a couple of scientific essays. Maybe she could still manage a couple of pages before bed if she left now...

She got up. Felt her arm brush against Booth' arm. They all looked up at her. "I am sorry," she said. "I'm really tired..."

"I'll drive you home." Booth immediately offered and was about to get up.

"No, Booth," she said, "I'm here with my own car." And because she felt that it had sounded too harsh she then added a "Thank you."

He looked sad. "Oh," he said, "well – then I..." Booth seemed lost for words. He did not finish the sentence.

Angela looked at her with a frown. She did not understand it, had she done something wrong?

Booth got up. "You're right. Last night has been a rather short night. Let me walk you to your car."

They both left the Jeffersonian in silence. As soon as they were out of earshot he took her arm, turned her towards him. "I thought we were going to spend this night together, too..." He sounded disappointed. "Has something come up today – you've changed your mind about us?"

"I haven't changed my mind about us." Her hand came up and she gently touched his cheek. She checked that they were alone, then left a short peck on his lips. "But I have a couple of things to do at my apartment." She added and took out her car key.

He still looked confused. Watched her open the door of her car and get in. He remained standing in her door though, held it open. "Can I come over to your apartment then?" He asked.

"Yes. Yes, of course." She said and after a pause, "...we could order some Chinese?"

This time it was him who looked around if they were alone. Then he kissed her, a full kiss, not just a little peck like hers. "I wanna order something else..." He said and kissed her once again. "This – was not a rain check on it, not even close to it." He smiled. Then he let her go.

Three quarters of an hour later she dove into the pool and let the soothing warmth of the water relax her tired muscles. Oh, this felt really good! She had wanted to take a bath but then had decided she rather prefered a swim in the pool instead. She looked over the smooth surface of the water in front of her and even though she felt exhausted from the past two days she decided to complete a few rounds before Booth would be here.

Booth – thinking of him made her heart beat faster. There was Booth in her life now. And he would be here soon.

Damn. She suddenly remembered that she hadn't told him yet she was down at the pool. With a heavy sigh she returned to the edge of the pool, quickly climbed up the ladder, found her mobile on her towel, and texted him that she was down at the pool and not in her apartment. He would find her here. He still had the keys that she's given to him two years ago. Lately, however, he hadn't visited the pool with Parker anymore. Maybe that would change again – now that they were... Well, what exactly were they now? Lovers? Partners? Best friends? ...And what exactly was she to Parker now? Now, that she and Booth had decided to engage in a real relationship. They would have to tell Parker. Not right now, but soon. How would Parker take it? She had always been on good terms with Parker but now she frowned thinking about it. She would ask Booth. He would know what to do, would know what to say. He was good with these things. She wasn't.

Booth. Smoothly she dove into the water again and smiled to herself as she remembered last night. They had slept with each other, had 'made love' as he called it. God, it had been great sex. And then they had had sex once more in the morning. He had aroused her so much with his skillful kisses that she hadn't been able to resist.

He would come to her tonight. She had no doubt they would have great sex again – lots of it. And tonight without any fear, without any threat to loose the other again, without any rush – now that Broadsky was caught and did not pose any danger anymore.

She shivered remembering Broadsky could have had killed Booth today. God, she had been so frightened to loose him. Thinking about it still made her sick.

Booth in turn had been concerned for her life, too. At first, she had not understood it. And they almost had had a fight about it. Because she had considered his concern to be irrational – his fear that Broadsky would come after her, too.

It was simple logic. The evidence was that Broadsky had tried to kill Booth. But in no way Broadsky could have been aware that he actually had missed Booth and had killed Vincent instead. Now, while Broadsky had presumed that Booth was dead he had had no reason anymore to come after anybody else of the team. Booth was the only one of them capable to stop Broadsky.

She had told Booth so. Still, he had outrightly refused to let her go back to her apartment alone when she had said that she needed to go there to get changed for the new day. She had found his fear irrational and without any reasonable foundation. They both had been late for work already due to their extracurricular lovemaking in the morning. Yet, nevertheless he had insisted to drive her over to her apartment. Then had insisted to enter every room before her, thoroughly checking up every corner of her apartment to make sure Broadsky wasn't there before he had allowed her to go in. She had told him that it hadn't been necessary. And she had been right that Broadsky hadn't been there. Unnerved she had told Booth that she would be very well capable of taking care of herself on her own. He in turn had grumbled that she had no idea what she would be up against here and then had left her alone for her to change her clothes. She had found him then grumpily scanning through her CDs in the living room while he had waited for her to get finished.

She still could not explain it but suddenly she had felt remorseful. She had not wanted to fight with him, not on this day – with only so little time that they both might still have had left together. So she had gone over to him, had put her arms around him and had kissed him. At first surprised he then had returned her kiss. Knowing what lay ahead for them on that day the kiss had become rather passionately and they had almost ended up having had sex again – in her living room. Then Booth' mobile had rung with new information on Broadsky which had brought them both back into reality. So he had dropped her off at the Jeffersonian, rather reluctantly though, kissing her for another full five minutes in the car before finally letting her go.

She could get used to starting every day with having sex, she thought. She hadn't slept with any man for quite some time. Not that there had been any shortage of men that wanted to have intercourse with her. She never had had any problem finding a man to spend the night with – no.

The difficulty appeared to be on her side, it appeared to be intellectual. Ever since that night at the Reflecting Pool when Booth had admitted for the first time that he had had feelings for her – something had changed. She could not explain it. She had turned him down then. Even now she was 100% sure that she had not been in love with him at that time, or at any time before returning from Maluku. Still, she had not slept with any man, had not found any enjoyment in picking up a man for just one night to satisfy the physical need. No wonder – that after more than two years of sexual abstinence – her body had responded to Booth' kisses, to him touching her like he had last night, like he had done again this morning.

God, he probably was right, her hormones were all up and if they continued to have sex at that rate she probably would end up being pregnant in no time. She still wanted to have a child, still longed to become a mother. Well, in order for that to happen she had to have unprotected sex with a man. All the better if that man was Booth. He was a great father. He was handsome, he was intelligent. Well, not as intelligent as she was, but still. All in all he had very pleasing qualities to pass on to their potential future child.

She wasn't on the pill. And they hadn't used any contraceptives. She assumed he was okay with it. He had not objected to unprotected sexual intercourse with her. Well, his Catholic religion of course banned the use of condoms. But then – his Catholic religion also forbade sex before marriage and he definitely did not adhere to that. Well, she would not get married, that she knew for sure. Not even if they indeed would manage to conceive a child.

A noise interrupted her wandering mind. She felt a touch on her shoulder and startled she turned around to fight her attacker. Jesus, the pool was deep enough to drown her, she thought.

"Bones!" She heard him say still fighting back like a wild animal. "Bones! It's me." As gently as he could he grabbed hold of her arms to keep her from hitting him, then he pulled her close.

She coughed. While fighting back in panic she had swallowed some water. "You startled me!" She said in protest as soon as she had recovered her breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" He murmured. "I thought you saw me coming in." He took her face in both his hands, then gently kissed her.

"No. I did not see you coming. I guess I was lost in thought."

"About me?" He teased.

She looked at him. "Yes." She finally admitted. "...Among other things."

"Good." He said. "I wanna continue where we left off this morning..." He kissed her neck, then every inch of her body above the surface of the water that her bikini did not cover. He let his hands wander over her body again.

"Booth." She whispered, fighting against her own desire to let him continue touching her. "Not here." She commanded.

"Why..., we're her all alone. ... I've been waiting all day to make love to you again..." He said and bent down to kiss her again. "You don't know how hard that's been..." He added hoarsely.

"The security cameras!" She said out of breath. "There are security cameras in this area... I don't want anybody watching us having intercourse." She whispered alarmed.

"Right." He sighed, then halted kissing her. "We better go upstairs then? I wanna make up for the last 14 hours – and I can't wait to start..."


	4. Adjustments

_**Adjustments**_

BOOTH

The day after they had caught Broadsky started as a quiet day and he was grateful for it. It was a Friday and he was looking forward to the weekend – their very first weekend together.

While being single he had not cared very much for weekends. For sure weekends were great for sleeping in and then lazily spending the remainder of the afternoon on the couch watching all kinds of sports on TV. And he loved the weekends on which Parker stayed over and they would go to the zoo or to the stadium to watch a game live. But those weekends were rare and the sad truth was that most often he had dreaded the other weekends when he had been all on his own. A bottle of his favorite scotch and the remote control of the TV could not make up for spending the weekend with another person. Somewhere deep down inside those weekends all on his own most often had left him feeling lonely and a bit depressed.

This weekend everything would be different though. He would sleep in for sure, but he would sleep in with her in his arms. He would make love to her again and later take her out to dinner or to wherever she liked to go, whatever she liked to do. This weekend he would not be alone.

He had intended to take that Friday off as well. After the traumatic events of the past days they surely were entitled to some rest. Bones, however, insisted to go to work, argued that she needed to close the case properly – after all, Matt Leishenger had been an innocent victim, too, and he deserved a respectful closure of the investigation of his murder, which meant that they still needed to locate Leishenger's family in order to hand over the remains and make sure that he would get a proper and respectful burial.

He listened to her reasons and loved her for her steadfast sense of duty and her compassion for the poor victim. However, he could not help but admit that on this morning his sense of duty appeared to be impaired, or at least momentarily sidetracked by the woman lying in his arms. He remembered the love they had made that night. He had kept his promise and had made love to her again – that time slowly and gently. Without Broadsky as an impending thread to their lives anymore, without any hurry or any fear about what the following day might bring – that anything might tear them apart again all too soon – they finally had taken their time, had spent hours kissing, caressing, thoroughly exploring every inch of each other's body. He had watched her amazement over the sensations his kisses, his touches could stir in her. Then had watched her frown whenever she had come upon a new scar on his body, indelible evidence of old injuries, signs of inflicted torture upon him. To her every scar told a story, a story about pain, a story about past ugliness. She saw through them, and saw through him, and knew by the shape of his scars what had made them and what had left them.

He had pulled her close, had rocked her in his arms. Had whispered to her that he was alright, that anything from his past life did not matter when he was with her. That he was fine now, more than fine. And she had believed him, had finally started to relax again.

In the end they had not slept much more than the night before. But this morning Bones had looked so much more relaxed, revived, and more beautiful than ever. No wonder he did not want to get up, didn't want to leave her.

At work he compiled the paper work for the Broadsky case. Paperwork was never a favorite part of his work, but it had to be done – and the sooner he got over with it the better. He took a last look at the pictures of Broadsky's victims. Five dead people they knew of, plus a handful of attempted killings, maybe more. Possibly, more victims which they didn't know of, not yet.

God, he had to believe those killings to have been the acts of a madman, that some traumatic war event had set Broadsky off to embark on that killing spree and had made Broadsky appoint himself his own judge whether people were good or were bad. He had to believe that those killings were Broadsky's own doing, that they had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Broadsky had been trained as an army sniper – just as he had been, too. He had to believe that a trained sniper knew about the significant difference between a commanded killing executed under a strict code of conduct in war zone and an atrocious cold-blooded murder out of the line of command. If he failed to believe that a trained sniper like him knew that difference the burden of knowing about all the lives that he had taken in the line of command would crush him. No, he knew well about that difference. He knew now that he was not Broadsky. And he knew now that Sweets was right, that he had chosen to embrace life and not death, and that he had built a life for himself with family and friends. And now with her.

Bones. His thoughts wandered to her. He wondered what she was doing this morning. He smiled to himself, perhaps he could think of a reason to visit her at the Jeffersonian? A work-related reason, of course.

He opened his mobile phone and sent her a quick text message. Her reply came within two minutes. Obviously she wasn't too busy either. Or she had expected him to contact her. He texted a reply to her reply and they ended up sending text messages to each other back and forth for the bigger part of the morning. Though nicely distracted by her messages he finished the paperwork and his final report for the prosecutor by noon and then texted her again and asked her out for lunch.

They met at the diner at 12.30. She ordered a veggie burger, he went for the more 'meaty' stuff. Any bystander would have believed them to be on just any of their regular lunch meetings. However, things were different today. Small things. Her knee slightly leaned against his leg under the table, both of their hands frequently seeking the same space on the table, their fingers touching ever so slightly from time to time, his had gently brushing a strand of her hair from her face. He wondered how long they would be able to keep their newly found love secret to the world. He had no intention to share their happiness with anybody else. Not for a while yet.

Angela knew. Bones had confessed to him that morning that through all of yesterday's chaos and her anxiety that he had to go after Broadsky she had confided in Angela and told her that they had slept with each other. He believed he should have felt upset that Angela knew. Somehow he should have felt betrayed that their newfound intimacy had been no longer their secret. But he wasn't. He liked Angela. He knew how important Angela was to Bones, that it was Angela Bones came to for advice. In a way Angela was very similar to him, she was sensitive to other people's emotional state of mind. He had no doubt that Angela soon would have figured it out by herself anyway that something had changed in Bones' life, that something was different. And surely Angela could be asked to keep their sweet little secret to herself – at least for a little while yet. Until he and Bones were ready to tell the world.

After she had finished eating Bones took out some papers from a briefcase and started to study them.

He frowned. Working over lunch had not been his idea of spending time with her. "What are you doing? What are those?" He pointed at the pile of papers next to her empty plate.

"Applications." She finally said hardly looking up from the paper she studied at that moment.

"Bones." He touched her arm, tried to divert her attention back to him. "I think you need some rest, some time off from work."

She finally looked up. "No, Booth. I can't. I have to get through all these." She tapped on the thick heap of papers. "The Jeffersonian is looking to fill all vacant positions quickly. These are the applications from the short-listed candidates only."

"What! Why...? I mean, can't Cam go through all these...? Isn't that her job – hiring new people for the Jeffersonian?"

"Yes. But the new intern will be working for me. Therefore, it is my responsibility to recommend the right candidate to Cam." She made notes on the paper in front of her, underlined a couple of words on the next page.

"These people are all applying for Vincent's job?" He asked rather shocked.

"Yes... We received 187 applications in total. But only 18 meet the appropriate qualifications to be even considered as candidates, of which four are currently located outside the US and therefore would not be available immediately and one has all the required qualifications but will not be of age until March of next year and therefore cannot be considered either..."

"Whoa!" He said, "This – is not right!" He quickly crossed himself. Didn't people have any decency anymore? "Vincent is barely 48 hours dead and you already have 180 people craving for his job before he's even cold in his grave!"

"187." She corrected him. "I don't believe that Vincent will have an inhumation burial. I think his body will be cremated. Therefore it is unlikely that his body will ever be cold in any grave..." Speaking about Vincent her voice had turned sad.

Something inside him snapped. She still wasn't over Vincent's death. She wasn't fine. And she shouldn't have to be. Not this soon.

He jumped up. "OK, that's it!" he declared. He pushed together the papers, snatched them from her.

"Booth! What are you doing? No!" She protested in utter surprise.

"Seriously?" He felt that beside his concern for her he was angry. "...They cannot expect you to make a decision about this now! God,Vincent was murdered only two days ago!" He watched her frown, watched her bite on her lip and his anger ebbed away. "I wanna take you away from here. Away from all this death, and violence, away from this senseless murder..."

"But that's our job, we work to catch murderers!" She said and held her hand out to him silently asking him to give back the papers to her.

"Yes. And we did." He said. "We caught Broadsky. We closed the case, ...but that doesn't mean we're fine. No one of us is fine after that case..., you're NOT fine, Bones. I can see that you're not!" With his free hand he gently touched her cheek, saw that he was right. That underneath she was NOT fine. "No one should expect you to be." he added quietly.

"I don't understand what that means." She replied reaching for the hand with which he had touched her face only a moment ago.

"Bones, it's ok to be sad about Vincent's death. It's ok to allow for more time to mourn this death. You don't have to decide about a new intern right now. Let's take some time off, go away for a couple of days. Just the two of us. Okay? ...You haven't had any vacation for a long time. Please."

"I was in Maluku..." She said.

"That wasn't a holiday." He cut in. "You dug up old bones and fought local warlords..." He then noticed the disapproving look on her face. "Ok, ok, I get it, digging up old bones makes you happy. But...," he quickly added, "...but Maluku, that's been ..what – 8 months ago?"

"Yes," she said, "8 months next Monday."

He watched her thinking, contemplating what he had said. He knew he couldn't rush her, couldn't get her to do anything that she wasn't convinced of.

"Okay." She finally said and a shy smile flashed her face. "I will go away with you. But where will we go to..?" She still looked skeptical.

He felt himself lighten up. She had said yes. He couldn't wait to be all alone with her. "Don't worry," he smiled, "I know just the right place..."

Later on their drive to 'just that right place' in Virginia they were both silent. The right place to leave the rest of the world behind for a couple of days was a little boarding house deep in the woods, not big enough to be actually called a hotel. In his youth he has spent a couple of weeks there with Jared and Pops.

He was still astonished how he had managed to convince her not to go back to the Jeffersonian anymore but to call Cam straightaway to inform her that she would take a full week off. Bones was the most headstrong woman he knew and there was no way of simply arguing that something felt right and therefore was the right thing to do. Not with her – for her he had to provide reasons, profound tangible evidence to make his point, to make any point. And he had.

Maybe in the future, when they would have gotten accustomed to their newfound intimacy, he would teach her how to trust solely on his gut feeling, and how to do a thing because it just felt right with no other reasoning needed. But for now – he was glad. He was happy, that Bones was in love with him. That was all he needed right now. And all he needed to be sure of.

Surprisingly Cam had not asked Bones more questions about her sudden holiday plans. Probably Cam had felt, too, that Bones needed some rest after Vincent's death.

He was glad that no one knew they were going away for a couple of days, and that he and Bones were going away together. They definitely weren't ready to tell the world yet. They both needed time for themselves, time on their own – away from Washington and away from anybody else they knew – quality time as a couple. Time to find out how their relationship was going to work. Time to make sure it would work beyond the elation of their very first days of utterly being in love. They both would have to make adjustments, this would probably be much more difficult for her than for him. Things were never just plain simple for her.

He looked over and smiled realizing the drive had made her drowsy and she had closed her eyes her head leaning towards him almost touching his shoulder. She trusted him. Somehow through all this confusion, through all the shocking events of this week she had finally allowed her heart to speak up, to win over reason. It still amazed him, though all along he should have expected it to happen at some point.

Months ago, when they had investigated the death of that female surgeon she had told him that she finally had found out that she had feelings for him. He had watched her cry back then after he had turn her down, after had told her that it had been too late, that he had gotten over her. He had been angry. Really, really angry. For weeks, for months after their ill-fated conversation at the Reflecting Pool he had hoped, he had prayed that she would still change her mind. Even during his first weeks in Afghanistan some small part in him had not given up hope. Had waited for her to call and to tell him that she had been wrong, that she had made a mistake when she had told him that she could never love him, that she could never return his feelings. The call never came. And then, after he finally had picked up the pieces of his torn heart, after he had built up a new life for himself, a new life with another woman – only then she had figured out that she actually had had feelings for him. He had been unable to deal with it, deal with it well. Of course, he knew her, knew her well, knew how difficult her past made it for her to rely on any feelings. Nevertheless he had felt angry. And he had needed time for himself to deal with his anger. He had told her so – on the day they had gotten stuck in the elevator together.

And through it all they both had lost a couple of months – again. He looked at her asleep, peaceful, beautiful. Wondered if he should have known all along, if he should have tried to work it all out earlier. How long would they still have lived on – shy – of admitting their feelings for either other? What if Broadsky had not tried to kill him, had not shot Vincent instead? They would never know.

It was a shocking thought – but in a way they almost had to be grateful for the events of the past week. It had reminded them how fragile life was. That it shouldn't be wasted.

He felt the sudden urge to kiss her. He stopped the car. They were not in a hurry.

She opened her eyes having felt that the car had stopped. "Are we there?" She asked sleepily.

"No." He shook his head, met her questioning look. He bent over, cupped her face with his hand. "I love you." he said. He kissed her, felt how she moved towards him and returned his kiss. Yes. They had time. Sufficient time to talk about past mistakes, about hopes, about fears. About where they would go from here, and what they needed to be happy.

He felt glad, blessed, proud. Through all this mess they had survived, had come out of it even stronger. Somehow through all this mess they had gained love. That was all that counted at the end of this week. Everything else from here they would just figure out.


	5. One plus one equals three

_**One plus one equals three**_

BRENNAN

Finally. Finally they had a new case.

She couldn't help but smile to herself when Cam had left her office. Of course, it wasn't rational that she felt that happy about having a new murder case – after all it meant that somebody was dead, that somebody had been murdered. But she felt really glad that after one and a half week of identifying remains from Limbo, finally, finally, a new real murder case had come up.

It would be their first case together as a couple. Not that now being in a real relationship with Booth had any impact on their professional work. No. After all, they were both very professional.

Still, she couldn't explain why, but she felt excited. Ever since having returned from her holiday with Booth ten days ago she had rather impatiently awaited for a new murder case to turn up. Because that was what she now enjoyed about her work the most – being out in the field with Booth, investigating the case directly with witnesses, and not to forget – she had come to love interviewing suspects. She had learned from Booth, by observing him, by following him, what it took to make a murderer confess. And she had become good at it. They both were really good at it. She and Booth had a conviction rate ranking high above the standard FBI crime investigation level.

Compared to the real excitement of a murder case – solving cases from Limbo in between now appeared lame to her. Of course, she was brilliant at that, too. She was one of the country's top anthropologists and was frequently asked by other institutions, too, for her expertise. Over the past ten days she had identified three human remains from Limbo. This was well above average for the Jeffersonian, too. But, uncovering the identity – and then the murderer – of someone, that had not been dead and stored for years in Limbo, of course was much much more exciting. Plus, she loved working with Booth.

The information provided by Cam about the new murder case was not very specific. Human remains had turned up in a bowling alley. Some kids had discovered them and according to Cam's source had started screaming and had really freaked out over the discovery.

She did not understand why people actually freaked out when they found a human body. After all it only consisted of flesh and bones, all of those very natural things, everybody had them. Yet still, people appeared to be disgusted by the remains after a person had died. This was clearly irrational and inconsistent...

Her mobile rang and interrupted her thoughts. "Brennan." She said answering to it.

"Hi, it's me." Booth said. "We've got a new case. They found body parts at the Corbin bowling center..."

"Yes. Cam told me about it a moment ago." She acknowledged.

For over a second they both said nothing else. "Our first case together..." Booth then added. To her he sounded happy and possibly even a bit excited. She imagined him sitting in his chair in his office smiling while he talked to her on the phone.

"But we already had hundreds of cases together..." She said slightly irritated.

"Yes, but now we're..." He appeared to be searching for the right words. "You're right." He finally concluded. "Well, we're back on a murder case. I'll come by and pick you up in... , let's say, 15 minutes, right?"

They kissed briefly when she got into his car. Both of them in the car, on the way to yet another murder case seemed so familiar and yet so different from all other times before. She still felt the need to touch him, to be close to him – was this normal in a 'real' relationship or was the feeling supposed to wear off after a couple of weeks? She didn't know... She counted the days in her head. 23 days since the day Vincent had died. 23 days, and nights, she slept with Booth and which she was in relationship with him.

He swerved the van around an oncoming vehicle and outside the parking lot. The sudden sideward movement made her feel nauseous. She took a couple of deep breaths to fight the feeling of sickness.

Booth looked over to her. "Are you okay?"

"My stomach seems to be upset this afternoon." She said. "Maybe I am coming down with something. Angela wasn't feeling too well, either."

"Oh." He looked concerned.

"Poor Angela! She can't wait anymore for the baby to be born... Oh, by the way, I finally gave her the check today. She was really surprised..."

"Which check?" He asked quickly looking over to her.

"Her share for advising me about the sexual practices for my book. Now, having them tried out myself, I can relate why the book has been such a huge success among my female audience. I believe Angela is entitled to another fair share of the royalties that keep coming in."

"Oh – you mean page 187 of your book..." He grinned satisfied while he searched for his sun glasses in the glove compartment because the sun had come out. "I should have been paid for getting you that aroused..." he murmured to himself.

For the split of a second she was confused, then she blushed. "No, Booth. That would be prostitution! I cannot pay you for having sex with me. It is not legal!" She protested.

"Right." He didn't seem to be disappointed about it. "...So, how much did you pay to Angela? How much is an advice for your book worth?"

"500,000." She said. This had been a difficult thing. Without a doubt, all the advice that she had received from Angela had contributed enormously to the great success of her book. But it posed a problem. Angela's contribution wasn't measurable in absolute figures. Therefore it had taken her quite so time to work out how much she should pay to Angela.

"Half a million...dollars?" Booth appeared to be shocked. "Jesus!"

"It seems appropriate. I made several millions with that book." Had she offered too little to Angela? Angela appeared to have been pleased with that amount. At least she hadn't said otherwise.

"Right." Booth still didn't sound convinced. But then his mobile rang and he took it out of his pocket and answered it while driving. "Booth." He listened to the person on the other end for some seconds. "Yes." He finally answered. "...No, we're already on our way... Yes, Bones, er... Dr. Brennan..." he quickly corrected himself, "...and me."

She assumed that he must be talking to someone they weren't closely acquainted with. All of their friends, all of the people they worked with knew that he only called her Bones. It sounded very official when he introduced her to someone as Dr. Brennan.

"Yes. Alright..." He said after another while. "No! Do NOT touch the body! Dr. Brennan does not like that! ...Yes, we will be there..." he looked on his watch. "...we will be there in..., in 10 minutes." He ended the call and put away his mobile.

She looked at him questioningly. "Whom did you talk to?"

"The mall's head of security. ...They will not touch the remains!" He quickly added. Then he chuckled. "You will like this one." he said.

"How can you know that I will like this case – we haven't even had a look at the victim yet." She replied.

"No, I meant the body. You will like the body ...or what's left of it." He still chuckled when he looked over to her. "Apparently the body was caught in the pinsetter and body parts are scattered all over the place. This should be meaty..." He appeared to be happy that she would be happy about it.

"You know that I do not like when the body is still fleshy. Therefore I will not like it." She objected.

"Right. Okay." He placated. "I am sure there will be lots of bones scattered all over the place, too."

He swerved into a free parking space in front of the mall and again she felt nauseous for a couple of seconds. This was annoying. What had she done to upset her stomach? Lunch had been fine. Maybe she was really coming down with something – which was even more annoying now that they were right at the beginning of a new murder investigation.

"Are you coming?" He asked waiting for her to leave the car.

"Yes." She said. She linked her arm with Booth'. She needed to touch him, to be close to him – at least for the time until they were inside the building. This was their first murder case together as a couple and she was excited to begin with it.

The remains of the victim had been so much ground up by the pinsetter that many of the body parts had gotten stuck in the machine itself and therefore the whole machine had to be dismantled to be sent over in one piece to the Jeffersonian.

Dismantling the machine had taken the technicians half of the night. Removing the body parts that were still stuck in the pinsetter would take Dr. Hodgins and Wendell the greater part of the morning. She kept away from it as far as she could – finding that for some reason the odor of the detergent that was used to clean the machine appeared to be rather revolting to her stomach.

For that matter Angela's office was the best place – being the farthest away from it all.

Angela was lying on her couch with her eyes closed when she came into Angela's office. She could only imagine how exhausting it had to be for Angela to still have to carry around that enormous pregnancy weight. Angela was three days past her due date now. Still Angela's body didn't seem to be in a hurry to give birth to the child any time soon – even though Angela had tried out several different stimuli to induce labor herself. Apparently, so far none of them had worked successfully.

For a moment she stood there indecisive whether she should leave again or not. She didn't want to disturb Angela in her slumber, but she didn't want to go back to the main hall either still fearing that it would upset her stomach even more this morning. Then she discovered a book about advice on breast feeding lying on Angela's desk and decided to stay and quietly read the book while she waited for Wendell to retrieve all the bones from the machine and have them cleaned.

"Hey." Angela said after a while.

"Oh Ange, did I wake you up?" She asked remorseful and laid the book aside.

"No. I wasn't sleeping. Just hoping for this baby to pop out of me right away..." Angela sighed. "I don't believe I can survive this another day!" Angela moaned.

"Statistically, it is quite common for the first-born baby to come after the calculated due date. Up to two weeks would be considered normal. ...If the baby isn't born within another week they can induce labor artificially." She told Angela.

"Another week!" Angela shrieked. "Hey baby, you cannot do this to Mommy!" She said to her tummy and petted it. "Hey, I think the baby is agreeing to that." Angela said smiling, then heaved herself into an upright position. "How's the cleaning of the bones coming? Jack said the pinsetter made quite a mess of the body..."

"Yes." She replied. "It will take them a while to retrieve all the bone fragments and tissue from the pinsetter, I don't believe there is any possible way of speeding it up. ...Perhaps Booth can find out whether somebody is missing from the staff or the regular customers of the bowling alley. That would give us the victim's identity before we can determine it from the remains." She explained to Angela.

"And you trust Wendell to retrieve all the bones on his own without actually supervising the whole thing...?" Angela sounded surprised. "...Wow!"

Was Angela blaming her for not supervising Wendell? She could not provide any rational explanation why she couldn't stand to come near the pinsetter at the moment and therefore couldn't work on the remains that were still stuck in it. "...My stomach this morning doesn't seem to agree with the smell..." She finally said.

"Sweety!" Angela looked at her concerned. "Are you alright? You never get sick, especially not over the smell of something decomposing... What's wrong...?" Angela motioned her to come over to her onto the couch.

She obliged and sat down next to Angela. "I don't know. Maybe I'm coming down with something..." She said subdued.

"Maybe, that gorgeous FBI agent of yours has knocked you up...!" Angela chuckled putting one arm around her.

Confused she turned towards Angela. "Booth would never hit me!" She protested. How could Angela ever believe Booth to be capable of that? Booth was not like his father! Not at all.

"No Sweety, what I mean is that you might be overly sensitive to that smell because Booth has gotten you pregnant... During my first trimester I couldn't stand the smell of coffee at all..." Angela petted her stomach again.

"What..? No." She shook her head. "I've only been sleeping with Booth for 23 days..." Statistically, given the short time span, it was very improbable.

"But you're not on the pill..." Angela interposed.

"No." She admitted to Angela.

"See! …. All I'm saying, is... S-N-I-P-E-R S-P-E-R-M!"

"I don't know what that means." She said confused.

"Dr, Brennan...?" She heard Wendell calling for her. "Dr. Brennan..!"

"I have to go Angela." She said and got up from the couch. "...Please! Please, let me know if anything happens – when you're starting to have contractions..." She reminded Angela.

"I will, Sweety." Angela reassured her. "...Though, I don't believe this baby will do me the favor and pop out anytime soon."

How was she supposed to concentrate on the murder case while she simultaneously had to deal with a stomach bug? Wendell had cleaned most of the bones and she had started to reassemble them as precisely as she could – but not a small number of bones still appeared to be missing. Since the victim had been found indoors it was unlikely for bones to have been disappeared – unless someone had took them as a souvenir. Some people collected strange things.

To her advantage the now properly cleaned bones did not exhale any overpowering smell anymore. So her stomach was fine. Yet, she wasn't able to fully concentrate on her work. Angela had looked really, really exhausted this morning, she should better have stayed at home. But waiting at home for the baby to arrive was probably even more unbearable to Angela. Here at work Angela could at least help with the case.

"Dr. Brennan, I have cleaned the rest of the bones now. What's left in the machine appears to be fibers and different kinds of residue, Dr. Hodgins is on it. ...Shall I help you now with assembling the bones?" Wendell placed the last tray of Bone fragments next to the other ones.

"Yes." She looked up from her momentarily work and scanned the newly arrived bone fragments on the tray. "Would you hand me that fragment of the tibia please?" She watched Wendell searching for it and was displeased that he didn't see it right away. She had recognized it at one glance.

"Please continue Mr. Bray. In the meantime I will take samples and have them sent over to the lab."

She removed her gloves and went over to her office to fetch an envelope for the samples. Passing by the now cleaned pinsetter in the hall her nausea returned. This was not normal. Her stomach had hardly ever been upset about anything, especially not when it came to bad odors... A thought struck her – oh God. It was actually possible, was it not?

She hastened to her office and feveredly searched for her diary. She flipped it open at about one month ago, searched for her notes... Oh God. It was possible! She should have had her menstrual period about a week ago. But she hadn't had it. She had missed her period. There was other evidence, too. Her nausea. Her current hypersensitivity to smells. And that she had engaged in sexual activity with a man that had already proven his ability to father a child. When tested three years ago his sperm count had been excellent. She had no reason to believe it had deteriorated in any way since then. Statistically, it was rather improbable for them to have accomplished a pregnancy in such a short period of time. However, scientifically it was not impossible. She looked at the dates in her diary again, recalculated her cycle. She had been in her fertile days around the time Vincent was killed. The child must have been conceived in during their first night together or on the following day.

Whoa. She stopped herself. She didn't have any proof yet that she actually was pregnant. Due to stress or other factors it was possible that her period would commence just a week later than normal. She had to take a test to have a probable pregnancy confirmed. For obvious reasons, of course she couldn't ask Cam to do the testing for her. She didn't feel comfortable to share her observations with anyone before she wasn't sure about them herself.

Her mobile phone rang. It was Booth. For some reason she felt uneasy talking to him now. However, he probably called in relation to the case. She should be able to compartmentalize and deal with her private matters later. "Booth!" She said answering the phone, annoyed about herself because her voice sounded a bit too shaky – despite her resolution to be utterly professional.

"Hi Bones." He said cheerfully. "Angela has identified the victim from his clothes as Jeff Fowler. He was an accomplished bowler, a regular at Corbin bowling. And..." He hesitated, as if what he needed to say next for some reason appeared to be difficult. "...he was bowling for the Thunderballs bowling team."

"Dad's bowling team?" She asked surprised, feeling that she didn't like when Max was involved again in any murder.

"Yes." Booth replied. "He might be able to help us with the case." He quickly added.

She wasn't convinced. "Do you think Max killed Mr Fowler...?" She then asked Booth voicing her biggest concern.

"Nah... Jeff Fowler has never threatened you, has he? ….Listen, I am meeting Max at the diner in half an hour, I thought you might wanna come along."

"Yes." She said. "But I have a couple of things to finish over here first..." She said. Her voice almost trembled again while she remembered about the pregnancy test she wanted to take. 30 minutes was very little time to accomplish anything. "I can be there in 40 minutes. I will meet you at the diner." She finally said. That would give her an extra 10 minutes. And she didn't want Booth to pick her up. First, she had to have her possible pregnancy confirmed before she could talk to him.

"Okay. I will meet you there." Booth replied and ended the call.

She wondered how he would react to the news that he would be a father again. Would he really be okay with it? Perhaps she should have told him that she wasn't using any contraceptive means before they had started to have sexual intercourse with each other. But their first time, their night after Vincent had been murdered, had been so passionate, so urgent to fulfill their physical needs. She doubted that Booth had thought about the use of contraceptive means during that night. At least she hadn't. And as a scientist she had to be the one that was supposed not to rush into anything rather thoughtlessly. She wondered in how far the peak of her fertile cycle during that time had played a role in her decision to get into bed with Booth. Surely the increased amount of estrogen in her body had subconsciously promoted her to have sexual intercourse with him. And now – counting from the first day of her last menstrual period – she probably was 5 weeks pregnant. She had to take a test. She had to take it right away, before she met with Booth and Max.

"Dr. Brennan..?" Cam came into her office and found her still sitting on her desk lost in her thoughts.

"Yes?" She looked up to Cam.

"Dr. Brennan, the messenger from the lab is here to collect the samples. Wendell said you went to prepare the samples for sending them over to the lab...?"

She went hot with guilt. Oh God, she had completely forgotten about the samples. Now, she didn't have time to finalize the preparations because she actually wanted to drop out of the Jeffersonian early in order to still have time for a stop at the drugstore. She needed to acquire a pregnancy test. Well no, better two different ones, just to be certain. And then she needed to find a public toilet on her way to the diner to conduct the test – and all that within only half an hour of time.

Damn, she silently cursed to herself and rose from her desk. "I am not ready with the preparations yet. I will get to it right away. Can the messenger wait?"

Cam looked at her with a strange expression on her face. "Of course. Is everything alright, Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes."She said. "Yes. I will prepare the samples now." She fetched an envelope from her desk.

"Fine. I will let the messenger know to wait for you to finish..." Cam declared and left her alone again.

Oh God. Of course, she had to attend to her work first. The actual preparation of the samples from the victim's body would not take that long. However, it was impossible that afterwards she could still manage to drop by at a drugstore or a pharmacy, let alone to find the time to take two pregnancy tests. Why did this all have to happen today? Only two days ago she would not have been pressurized by an ongoing murder investigation while having to deal with this crucial phase of her life.

Labelling the samples from the victim an idea came to her. She fetched an acus and pricked the middle finger on her left hand. She then drained enough blood for a sample. She sealed the container and marked it with only a number in order to send her blood sample off anonymously, together with the rest of the samples from the victim, requesting for a complete hormone analysis. After all the Jeffersonian possessed very renowned lab facilities which provided 100% accurate results, and the lab worked fast. She could expect to receive the result within a hour, or two at utmost.

Returning from her lunch meeting with Max and Booth she felt happy. She and Booth would go undercover again, Buck and Wanda would be back! She loved undercover work. And now – with Booth and her being in an actual relationship they didn't even need to pretend anymore that they were a couple because now Booth and her were a couple for real. This time her father would accompany them to introduce them to the other members of the bowling team to divert the suspicions of the other players.

The bowling tournament would not begin before 4 pm., which left her 3 hours to find the right clothes for her character as Buck's 'trashy' girlfriend. She wasn't really sure what the concept of someone being 'trashy' really implied. Earlier she had called Angela directly from the diner asking her for advice and Angela had suggested that Wanda had to be 'trashy' and that Angela even had a trashy wig which she could lend to her. So she headed back to the Jeffersonian, firstly to collect the wig – she wondered why Angela kept at trashy wig at work – and then, of course, she had to inquire about the result of her blood test. She hadn't given it any more thought during lunch but now she felt nervous.

When she entered her lab Wendell advanced her right away. "Dr. B..., Dr. Brennan..." He corrected himself quickly. She knew Hodgins called her Dr. B. However she would not tolerate it from any of the squinterns. Wendell seemed nervous. Had something happened? Had he damaged the victim's bones?

"Yes?" She asked.

"Dr. Brennan, we have a problem..." Wendell nervously scratched his chin. "The test results for the samples from the victim just came back from the lab. According to the test results – our victim appears to have been pregnant at the time of his death..." Wendell pointed at the papers with the test results of the samples in his hand.

"That is not possible. The victim is male." She declared, angered that today – out of all days – the lab appeared to have worked imprecisely.

"Yes, that's what I thought, too, up to now... Maybe our victim was some kind of hermaphrodite...? The lab claims that they did not mix up the samples, they only sent back the results for what we requested. The other results seem to be consistent, but this one..."

"Let me see." She took the paper from Wendell, started to study it. It were the results of a blood test. She looked at the reference number at the head of the page. This was the result of her blood test. She went hot, then cold. She felt her blood pressure drop and her heart beat faster. All of those signs of a shock. The hCG level in her blood was clearly elevated, not very high yet, but elevated to an extent that indicated that conception had taken place about 3 weeks ago. She was... in fact... pregnant. Carrying Booth' child. Wow. She had to sit down, had to think about it.

Wendell still stood next to her and looked at her, he waited for her instructions.

"I'm sorry Wendell. I sent off another sample. It is not from the victim." She had forgotten to mark her sample as confidential. It had not been Wendell's fault that he had opened the result.

"Oh – oh." Wendell said. "This is private, isn't it? ...I won't tell anyone!" Wendell quickly emphasized.

"Thank you." She replied weakly. She had to sit down, had to allow for time to take it all in. Her knees felt weak. Her blood pressure was still low. She folded the paper with the results then went to her office.

"Er... Dr. Brennan...?"

She turned around to Wendell once more. "Yes?"

"I forgot to say... Congratulations!"

She wondered if she was supposed to feel different, now that she was pregnant. Of course, she wouldn't start to actually feel the baby until much later. The embryo was small at this stage, a lump of developing cells, only about 2.5 millimeter in length. So small – and yet she already loved it so much. Her baby. She laid a hand on her abdomen, petted it.

She had to tell Booth. She couldn't get herself to do it over the phone. Right now he was probably busy anyway picking out his disguise for their undercover work. -Oh, she had almost forgotten about that, too. She needed to get going.

Angela had finally gone into labor while she still had been at the bowling center with Booth. At first she had been concerned that she would miss the birth of Angela's child. But Angela's progress towards the birth of the child was slow. With the help of Wendell, Hodgins, and with additional information provided by her father they had found and convicted the murderer of Jeff Fowler rather quickly, still on that very same evening and then had headed for to the hospital to be there in time for the birth.

Still the child wouldn't come. Sitting in the waiting room even through the closed doors they could hear Angela's screams. Of course, she understood that childbirth usually was painful and could take hours to progress in any way, especially supported by the fact that this was Angela's first child. But she had never expected it to be that complicated and long-lasting. While waiting for Angela's child to arrive her thoughts frequently wandered to her own. The child she would give birth to in about 8 months. She hadn't told Booth yet. Partly because the time had not been right and partly because she had felt too nervous, too concerned, too scared. What if he didn't want another child? He already had Parker. She knew how much he loved Parker and how hard it was for him that he wasn't allowed to spend more time with his son. Maybe Booth didn't want another child from yet another woman that didn't want to marry him. And she did not believe in marriage and could not marry him. A child would not change that.

God, imagining how it would be to become a mother had been so much more easy than now having to deal with the actual situation. Changes would be necessary. She and Booth had barely had time yet to adjust to being in a relationship. Getting her pregnant so quickly now came quite as a shock – even when she had longed to become a mother for so long. Of course, she would have the child, no matter what happened. She had the financial means to raise the child on her own. She wasn't afraid to do it all on her own – but the truth now was that she didn't want to. She wanted the child – but she wanted Booth as well. She could not imagine not being with him anymore.

She hadn't realized Angela's screams had stopped for some time. Maybe progress was finally made. Angela couldn't remain in labor forever. She looked over to Booth. He appeared to be lost in thoughts, too. Was he thinking about how it had been when Parker was born? Even back then he had not been allowed to spend time with his newborn son. Could another child, their child, redeem what he had missed out with his son? She loved him so much. He was the man she wanted to be the father of her child. The only one.

The door finally opened and Hodgins came out with the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. God, she did not recall that newborn babies were really that small. ...And soon she would have her own little one. She exchanged looks with Booth. He seemed happy that the baby had finally arrived. It had been a long day for all of them.

She was glad, that she had spoken to Angela, that despite having been in labor for long painful hours Angela had told her that it had been absolutely beautiful. She hadn't told Angela that she was pregnant. Not yet. There would be a better time for it later. Tonight Angela needed to concentrate on her baby. And then she felt that she needed to tell Booth before anyone else. But how did women generally approach the matter?

Booth's apartment was only a few blocks away from the hospital. The spring air was mild, even at that late time and Booth and her decided to leave the car behind and walk back. She was happy that finally they were both all on their own. And though she was nervous, she knew she had to tell him now. But how was she supposed to broach the subject? For some time they walked side by side in silence.

"Are you tired?" He finally asked.

"No." She shook her head. She was musing tonight, yes. But she wasn't tired.

He smiled. "Perhaps we could pass by at the diner. I haven't had anything to eat since lunchtime and I bet you haven't either..."

"I'm not hungry." She replied. It was true. She feared that until she would have found the courage to tell him about her pregnancy she would not be able to eat anything. It wasn't rational that she was so uneasy about it, but she couldn't help it that she felt that nervous.

"Are you still worried about the baby...? " He asked after some time because she had not said anything again.

"Yes. But... They looked so happy." She concluded to voice her concern that it wasn't right.

"Yeah, well, they had a baby." He replied. Obviously, he didn't seem to see any need for concern.

"Their whole lives have changed. You'd think they'd be a little more apprehensive..." She objected. It was a big responsibility. She was glad that she still had almost 8 months left to thoroughly prepare herself for it. He wasn't aware yet that he needed to do the same.

"Well, you know, having a baby – that's a good thing." He looked over to her while he said it.

She was confused. Was he still talking about Angela's baby or about babies in general? Was he okay with having another baby? Now? With her? "You – you really think that?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, it's a great thing." He assured her. Then he stopped and turned towards her. "What...?" He must have felt her underlying concern, her uneasiness.

She wanted to tell him. Needed him to be part of this. But she felt paralyzed and just looked at him, waiting for the right time to come.

He didn't know what to make of her silence. Told her that Angela's and Hodgins' baby was fine, that it had been born healthy, that they loved each other, and that that day was the happiest day of their lives.

To some extent she was disappointed. Obviously, he was still talking about Angela's and Hodgins' baby. Not about a baby in general. Or about their baby. ...Well, he couldn't know about their baby yet, he surely didn't suspect that she was pregnant. It was the right moment now. But she hesitated, searched for words.

"What...? He asked again.

She looked down, fought against her nervousness. Then looked up to him again. "I'm..., " she chuckled, "...I'm pregnant."

He looked at her – totally stunned.

Maybe he was confused? Maybe he couldn't believe that she was indeed pregnant with his child? She needed him to understand this. "...You're the father."


	6. Sniper genes

_**Sniper genes**_

BOOTH

They smiled at each other. Shyly. Amazed. Happy.

"Wow." He said, still bearing a smile on his face. A thousand thoughts ran through him at once. They would be a family. A real family. Parker would have a sibling. Bones was pregnant. His Bones was pregnant! With his child. He would be a father again. It was unbelievable. "Wow."

Of course, he had realized that something had been on her mind tonight, that she had been silent and preoccupied. He had assumed her thoughts were still with Angela and her baby. Even though Angela's baby had been born healthy and the birth had gone well, he knew Bones and he knew that she would need some time to process the events of the day. But, he would never have guessed that instead she had been preoccupied because she had be thinking about THEIR baby. God, they would have a baby! Together. A child. Their child. Wow.

The frown was back on her face. "Do you..." She sounded hesitant again. "Do you still think having a baby is a good thing...? She asked.

He felt his heart burst with love for her. She had a way of touching him deeper than anybody else, deeper than anybody else ever had before. Her innocent concern, her unconditional love. Not even with Rebecca he had ever come close to what he now felt for Bones.

How could she have doubts about it? Have doubts about something so amazing, something so beautiful...? Have doubts about him not wanting to be a part of it? Even if it all still appeared unbelievable to him – in some miraculous way they had conceived a child. He did not doubt it for a moment. If there was any woman in this world who would not be kidding about being pregnant – it was her. "Bones." He said hoarsely. His hands gently cupped her face, touched her, drew her closer. "Come here." He whispered. He kissed her, wrapped his arms all around her. All he wanted was right there in his arms. And tonight he had even more than what he'd wished for, more than he'd ever expected.

A minute passed, perhaps more than a minute. He did not care about people passing by looking at them. He needed to embrace her, needed to brush away all of her doubts. It took a while until he felt her ease, finally felt her tension ebb away. "We're going to have a baby..." He whispered awestruck. "Of course, I..., I want you to have OUR baby!" He reassured her. "I love you." He let his lips brush over her lips again, gently touched her face. "How..., how did we do this...?" He smiled, still amazed. "... A baby. Wow."

"Well, we did have unprotected sexual intercourse, several times. Also during my fertile days." She smiled and he was glad that apparently her confidence was all back. "And since you are a good breeder with a proven record of a very pleasing overall sperm count rate – one of your sperm has inseminated my ovum. Six or seven days after fertilization the embryo then implanted in the endometrium of my uterus – thus leading to a pregnancy." She continued.

"What? ...No, I..." He chipped in, confused by too much science.

"But yes! That is how it all happened. There is no other possible way!" She emphasized.

"Bones, no I mean, of course, do I know how to make a baby! Jesus, I already have a son... and – I don't seem to have forgotten how it works, now have I...?" His hands went down, lovingly he petted over her belly. Yes, he felt indeed – proud. They had made a baby. And in no time. He tried to remember, they couldn't have been sleeping with each other for more than a month. Wow.

Of course, he had known how much she longed to have a child of her own. And he had not objected to father this child, their child. He was not out of this world. They could have used condoms. They could have talked about contraception. They hadn't, not even after their first passionate night where admittedly neither of them had acted as any responsible adult. Had they made the child that night?

"I'm just surprised how quick we made the baby..." He said, his hands still on her belly. Of course it was too early for her to have any baby bump yet. But knowing that somewhere in there a child – their child was growing filled him with love.

"Well, you said that that my hormones would go wacko once I would have seen Angela's baby. I guess they already must have been for the past month..." She took his arm, liked with it, they finally walked on.

"Yes, I remember saying that..." He grinned. "I'm glad I could be of help stirring them up."

They walked past the junction where they could turn left to still make it to the diner. They walked straight on. A whole new world had opened up to them tonight. He wanted to go home, wanted to make love to her again. Wanted to make plans for the future. Their future. As a family.

"We've only been sleeping with each other for 23 days. "Do you...," she hesitated. "Do you think it is okay to have a child right away...? Well, I mean, not right away, not right now of course, the baby will only be born in 8 months..."

"Bones." He stopped, turned towards her. "I love you." He kissed her again. "We're...," he smiled his hand gently touching her face. "We're ready for this, okay?"

"Yes." She replied after a short while. Her hands rested upon his shoulders. "We certainly have the means to raise a child, financially AND intellectually." She then emphasized. "And we both bring along very pleasing traits for our progeny... our physical appearance, your social skills, my intelligence..."

For the split of a second he was confused about her reasoning. This was not what he had meant. "No, Bones. ...I mean as a couple." He chipped in. "As a couple we're ready. We've known each other for so long. We're good with each other. We're ready to take on the next step now. We're ready to become a family, right?"

"I don't … know." She replied. "I've never been in a relationship like this before. I don't know how having a baby is generally handled by couples." She looked at him, puzzled, concerned. "I've always been on my own. I believe I will be much better in handling this all on my own."

"No." He felt his heart sink. No, she couldn't really mean to do it all by herself alone. She certainly just needed more time to cope with the new situation. There had to be a way to work this out, together. As a couple. They had come this far, he had faith that they were ready to have a child together. Surely she wouldn't leave him out of this, wouldn't make him stay out of it all, now would she? Not now – not with a child involved. Even now – while still caught in the amazement and in the novelty of it all – he knew that he would die not being involved in the upbringing of this child. His child. "Bones, I need to be involved." He emphasized.

"I don't seem to understand yet in how far the concept of us being a family is supposed to be different from us being a couple..? This is confusing." She said, obviously having picked up the irritation on his face. "Of course, I understand having a child will involve allocating additional means and time after the baby will have been born... All of which I am perfectly willing and capable of providing... " She added.

He frowned. He felt she was slipping away, back into her own world again. Did she really mean that she thought to provide for this child all on her own? Oh God – she wouldn't deny him to be part of it all, would she? Surely she had to see that he couldn't keep away. He shook his head. Panic rose in him from somewhere deep down inside. A memory flashed by. What if she wanted only his child – but not him? Three years ago, before his brain tumor, when she had first expressed her wish to have a child – back then she had not cared who was going to be that child's father. She had only wanted him to donate his sperm but had made it quite clear that she had not wished him to be involved in the upbringing of the child. Would he actually have agreed to go through with it all if it hadn't been for his brain tumor to distract her plans? Surely things were very different now. They had to be. Everything had changed between them since back then. They were in a relationship now. They loved each other. They shared a life. "I wanna be there – for you and for this baby. Bones, I have to be! I need to be involved! In everything. I am the child's father!" He knew that he had reached a state of pleading to her, and that his voice was too full with emotion. In his agitation he grabbed her arm maybe a bit to firm. Realizing it he instantly loosened his grip."I'm sorry..." His hand went up her her face instead. "It's just..., I don't want to have another child that I'm only allowed to see every other weekend. I could not bear that..." There. It was out. His biggest fear.

For a second her blue eyes looked at him surprised. He wondered whether his sudden outburst had startled her. He couldn't help it, he was not the guy to walk away from something like this. And he absolutely refused to stay out of it.

With her hand she rubbed the spot were he had grabbed her. She seemed to be in thoughts. "Booth, I wouldn't want you to stay away. I wouldn't want you to visit only every other weekend..." She finally declared, then turned to him and kissed him. "I like being with you." She added as their lips parted again. "I am glad we made this baby – but, I want the baby AND I want you. I want a family – with you." She kissed him again.

Joy spread through him. "Bones." He uttered, void of anything else to say. Too happy that they were fine, that they agreed to have this baby together. That they would be a family.

"It scares me." She then said. "There's some much I don't understand about it. There are so many aspects about it that I am not familiar with. I believe having a family is a big responsibility to take on..."

"We're gonna make it work." He reassured her. "We'll be fine, because we have each other. Right?"

"Yes." She said, finally smiling again. Then she yawned.

He looked at his watch. It was 1.47 a. m. already. He was glad that they wouldn't have to get up early in the morning. "Come on, let's go home."

Later in his bed he looked at the lines of her slender body as she had drifted into sleep right beside him. Of course, there was no physical sign yet that she carried his child. He wondered how it felt knowing a new life was growing inside. As a man he would never know. But this time he would be around to experience all of her stages of pregnancy. He would be there to see her body change. He would be able to see the miracle of life grow.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why Rebecca and him had never been that close, why their relationship had failed in the end. He thought back to when Rebecca had been pregnant with his son. Ten years ago he had hardly been able to be around for the birth of his son. Ten years ago his life had been dictated by the army. Rebecca had refused to marry him right after they had found out about her pregnancy. But not being married had also meant living apart. The army was strict about that. Only married soldiers had been allowed to live together with their wives. Their long-distance relationship had never been easy. He admitted that his commitment to his special duties as a sniper had probably made things even worse, and that some of his bi-weekly visits to his pregnant girlfriend at that time should have been weekly visits. But, ever since her refusal of his proposal a certain resentment had nurtured deep inside of him, and secretly had made him more inclined to accept even additional special assignments whenever those had come along. Later Rebecca had paid him back by refusing to let him see his son more often. It had been the hardest lesson to learn in his life. A lesson he regretted every day.

If it wasn't for Bones – he wasn't sure whether he would have agreed to have another child with another woman – out of fear to end up in yet another fight to be able to see his child. With Bones things were different though. They knew each other for so long. And though things were far from easy, of course they had their struggles, their fights and disagreements, he absolutely knew she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He didn't care that she wouldn't marry him. That she didn't believe in marriage either. He had learned that lesson well. He wouldn't stay away this time, wouldn't stay away from her or the child. Their child.

He smiled. Joy spread through him. It still felt unbelievable that they would have a child together. February, she had said, she would be due in February. His fingers gently wandered over her belly.

"Mmm..." She turned her head towards him.

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?" He asked remorseful.

"No. I wasn't sleeping. I was just..." Her stomach growled.

"Are you ok? Are you hungry?" He asked concerned. "We should have gone to the diner... Do you want anything? I can make you some soup..." He almost got up.

She held him back. "No, Booth. I'm fine. Really." She assured him.

"And the baby?" He asked concerned, touching her belly again.

"The embryo is fine... I guess." She added, her hands wandering down to meet his.

"How does it feel?" He asked curiously. He gently kissed her bare shoulder.

"I don't understand." She turned her head, looked questioningly at him.

"The baby." He said. "How does it feel to have a baby growing inside of you? I've been wondering about it..."

"Technically it is not a baby yet."

"Ok. The..., the..." He searched for the right word. "...The little miracle we made – that will grow into the most beautiful baby on earth." He loved her so much. Her and the baby they had made.

"The embryo."

"Yes." He said. "That sounds very much less romantic. But yes."

"I don't know." She replied. "Apart from a few occurrences of nausea and an apparent and – I must say rather annoying – increase of hypersensitivity to odors I haven't felt any more symptoms of my pregnancy yet.

"You have been sick?" He asked concerned. "Like... sick in the morning? Is that how you found out you're pregnant?" He wanted to be involved. Wanted to know about every part of it.

"Morning sickness is actually not limited to only the morning. It can occur at any time of the day." She replied.

"Ok." He said.

"Morning sickness usually begins around the sixth week of pregnancy. I am currently 5 weeks pregnant, therefore I am as of yet unable to determine in how far it will affect me."

"5 weeks pregnant...?" He asked confused. But hadn't she said earlier that they'd only been sleeping with each other for 23 days?

"Yes, 5 weeks – calculated from the first day of my last menstruation."

"Oh, okay." He had to admit that he didn't know much about it at all. He obviously knew how to make a baby, but how things went on from there was a total mystery to him. "When – do you think – we made the baby?" He didn't recall every single time – but he certainly remembered that they had made a lot of love during their week away in Virginia.

"I believe I was fertile around the time Vincent was murdered..." She smiled remembering it.

"You mean we actually made the baby when we made love for the first time...?" He gently placed a kiss on her temple. He remembered their first night. Remembered that she had come to him. It was unbelievable that they had made a baby, had created a life during that night. Wow.

"That is possible, yes." She said. She turned her head, met his lips. They kissed. Lovingly. Gentle. She chuckled.

"What?" He asked.

"Angela says you always hit on the first shot."

"What...? You discussed my sex life with Angela?" He blushed, embarrassed. Jesus. "...I'm sure she referred to my abilities as a shooter." He quickly added. Of course, he should have known that she talked to Angela about everything, which meant also about him. Still, knowing that his sexual abilities had been the subject of their talks embarrassed him.

"Sniper sperm." She said.

"What?" He wasn't sure she had said what he had understood.

"Sniper sperm, Angela says you've got sniper sperms..." She said in all earnest.

He went hot, absolutely thoroughly embarrassed. They had even discussed his sperm! Jesus. Then a thought struck him. "You told Angela about the baby...?" He could help feeling disappointed. Surely he should have been the first to know. He was the father.

"No." She shook her head. "I.., I only found out yesterday. I haven't told anybody else about the pregnancy yet."

"Good." He said. "I wanna keep it to ourselves. At least for a little while yet..." He gently rubbed her arm, pulled her close. Of course, sooner or later they had to tell the world – Parker, Pops, her dad, their friends... But maybe they still had some weeks for themselves, before her pregnancy would show, before they had to go public with their relationship.

"I believe it is generally agreed to wait until the end of the first trimester before telling family and friends." She said. "I could still have a miscarriage."

"Don't even say that!" He quickly crossed himself. He wanted this child. He felt he was already absolutely in love with it. His fingers gently wandered across her belly again. He felt the sudden urge to touch, to kiss, to make love to her again. He turned around, bent over her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Felt her respond to his kiss. Her hands came up, embraced him. He took a moment to look at her. She was beautiful. His hand gently caressed her cheek. Once more he felt amazed, he felt blessed. "I can't wait for you to have our baby." He whispered.

"It will take another 8 months, well, almost 8 months – until the baby will be born." She said.

Nevertheless he smiled. "I wanna kiss the baby!" He declared. He went down to kiss her belly.

"Booth! What are you doing...?"

"Kissing the baby..." He replied.

"That..., Booth, right there you would be kissing my bowels... The uterus is much more down below." She said when he placed another kiss on her.

"Here..?" He asked, moving downwards, kissing her belly again.

She shivered. "...Much more down." She said hoarsely.

He obliged her. Went further down. He decided he very much liked this game. He kissed her again, felt her body respond to his kiss. "What...?" He asked innocently and looked up to her.

"I feel – you kissing me there – is sexually stimulating."

"Like this...?" He kissed her again, felt her inhale sharply. His hand caressed the spot he had just kissed. "Hey Baby," he whispered against her skin, "...daddy likes to turn mommy on." He moved further down, between her thighs.

"There is no sense to talk to it, the embryo is not able to hear you yet..." She panted. "Research has shown that the ability to hear noises from outside the womb does not develop before the 18th week of pregnancy..." She moaned, responding to his touches and kisses.

"Okay." He said and moved up to meet her face to face. He gently parted her legs. Occupied that space again which he had learned to love so well. He covered her with kisses. "I'm sure he can feel the pleasure – when we make love." He whispered.

"He...?" She asked, short of breath. "Do you want a boy?"

He didn't answer straight away. Kissed her again instead. Did he want a boy – or a girl? It didn't matter to him. She would have their child, that alone was a miracle. "I don't care." He finally told her. "I love this child. I love you." He buried his head on her neck, in her shoulder. He moved faster. She had her legs wrapped around him. "Do you want a girl...?" He panted, thought about it. "I wanna give you a little girl... beautiful, and intelligent – just as her mother..." He whispered. He liked the idea. A little girl. Wow.

"The baby's gender has already been determined by the sperm that has inseminated my ovum." She replied. "There wasn't any way to influence the baby's gender – given that we conceived the child by natural means." She appeared to be momentarily distracted from their lovemaking. "Well, there are some controversial unproven theories that the time of the intercourse in relation to the actual time of the ovulation might increase the possibility of conceiving a certain gender in favor of the other... But we clearly did not pay any attention to that."

Wow. That was too much science for him. To much, while they were actually trying to make love. He signed. He would have to get this completely off her mind in order to get back her attention. But then, they could make love at any time. Another time was fine for it as well. But talking about their baby – the baby they had conceived barely a month ago and had just found out about – this was something so beautiful, something much more meaningful. It was their promise to the future, to a life together, for the rest of their lives. As a family. He halted, gently touched her face. "So, my little guy decided about the sex of our baby..." He smiled. "Sniper sperm." He said to himself and laughed. It didn't sound that bad after all. It was actually a compliment, to him, to his abilities. She had wanted a child. So they had made one. It was as simple as that. But still he would go to church tomorrow and thank HIM for giving them this miracle.

She smiled back at him. "Yes. ...Well, sniper genes, sniper chromosomes, in this case, actually."

"Right." He said, feeling the joy that they soon would be a family. He with her – and a baby. "I'm glad my sniper genes did hit on the mark." He smiled. It was true. Maybe they had not planned it, had not thought it through. But it didn't matter. In a way, they had been moving towards this for much longer than they booth had been aware of it. And they loved each other.

"I'm glad, too." She lifted her head to meet his lips. "I love you Booth." She looked at him. Her blue eyes met his dark ones. "I can't wait to have your baby."


	7. The hardest part

_**The hardest part**_

BRENNAN

Being pregnant was not as easy as she had imagined it to be. For the last two weeks her pregnancy related sickness had become not only an inconvenience to bear, it also posed a growing challenge to her professional life.

Only this morning she and Booth had been called to another body dump. Dr. Saroyan, Dr. Hodgins and Dr. Edison had already been busy examining the remains at the crime scene when she and Booth arrived. Luckily, the sight of her and Booth arriving together was a familiar one to their whole team, therefore no one had questioned her and Booth arriving together even at 8 in the morning.

An hour earlier, when Cam had called and informed her about the new body, of course she had not mentioned to Cam that she had been lying in Booth' bed, almost still embraced in his arms – if he had not been called by his superior two minutes earlier about that very same body dump. Soon, the world would have to be told about their relationship and about her pregnancy. But at this stage, being ten weeks pregnant, it would take at least another 4 to 6 weeks before the physical changes of her body would start to become widely visible.

Still keeping her pregnancy to herself had become quite a challenge at work though. She couldn't prevent feeling nauseous at different times throughout the day. On most of those occurrences she soon felt better after a couple of deep breaths, but that didn't always work. Of course, feeling nauseous was a natural process, her body adjusting to the hormonal changes necessary for the perpetuation of her pregnancy. However, while being at a crime scene, bent over the remains of a male victim of approximately 40 years of age, who appeared to have been set on fire after his death, a sudden wave of nausea was more than just an annoyance.

Horrified by the thought that she could contaminate the crime scene by possibly ejecting the content of her stomach over the remains she jumped up at once. Instantly she felt this to have been a very bad idea. Feeling that her blood pressure was too low to compensate her sudden movement into an upright position she stumbled somewhat sidewards fighting black spots which had appeared in front of her eyes.

"Bones!" Booth' voice sounded worried when he looked up from his note pad having seen her stumble.

"Everything okay, Dr. Brennan?" Hodgins asked.

Okay, she had to stay calm, had to breathe in deeply. In a moment she would be all better. She closed her eyes, tried to breath evenly. When she opened her eyes again everyone was staring at her. "I seem to be suffering from hypotension this morning." She explained. "I think I will take a few steps until my condition has improved."

Though surprised the three squints kneeling over the human remains nodded sympathetically.

"What's hypotension?" She heard Booth asking them while she went away. She scanned the area for a shielded spot where she could be on her own. Taking deep breaths would not do this time. She fought hard against the impulse to empty her stomach. She had to be as far from the crime scene as possible first, and preferably out of sight and out of earshot from everyone else. Luckily the area was deserted at that time of the day and she quickly found a small patch of grass mostly shielded by two buildings standing in close proximity. She had never been much sick in her life. And even at times when she had been ill she had never been prone to vomiting a lot. Suffering from emesis to such an extent therefore was a total new experience to her. Not a particular pleasing one – but it had to be endured for another two or three weeks until the major hormonal changes in her body would have been conducted. She quickly emptied her stomach on the green and felt a little bit better. This was not an ideal spot to be sick, she would have to locate some drinking water or at least a shop nearby to buy some water in order to rinse her mouth. As a scientist that was familiar with bodily fluids she did not mind the smell, the taste in her mouth however was displeasing. But at this moment that appeared to be her least concern while a new wave of nausea affected her. Sustaining the reflex to retch was actually worse when she felt that there wasn't any content left in her stomach which still could be expelled. Oh God, she really wanted it to end. How did other pregnant woman cope with this?

"Bones?"

His hand suddenly upon her shoulder almost startled her. She came up from her buckled position and quickly wiped her mouth. What was he doing here?!

"Oh God!" His hand petted her back. "I'm so sorry!" He said. "...so sorry!" He repeated.

In a way she found it annoying to be touched. Found it annoying that he had come after her. Of course, she understood that he was concerned, that he felt responsible. Even when the later was purely based on his emotional assessment of him being the cause for her pregnancy, not on rational facts which took into account the actual scientifically proven cause of her nausea and its effects. She had tried to explain this to him before.

"Thank you. ...I believe I'm much better already." She said weakly. She felt too weak to argue her point again, that it hadn't been him alone that had gotten her pregnant but that it had been a mutual decision of them both to engage in unprotected sexual intercourse and to have conceived this child. Therefore he wasn't responsible for her pregnancy related sickness any more than she was. But he didn't seem to understand this. It was irritating.

"You don't look well to me." He said concerned, gently touching her cheek. "Do you wanna go home? ...I am sure Cam, Hodgins and Clark can bag the remains by themselves. You can still have a look at them tomorrow, Hodgins says they must have been lying here for at least several months."

"No. I'm okay now. I will come back in two minutes, okay? You know how important the first 48 hours of a new investigation are. I cannot leave the examination of the bones to be carried out by Dr. Edison all by himself!" As soon as she had finished she suddenly felt the reflex to retch return. Oh God. Not now, not again. Not in front of Booth! She didn't want him to stay and watch her unceremoniously emptying whatever was still left of this morning's breakfast in her stomach. It was bad enough that whenever she had been sick at his apartment or at her home with him being present he had wanted to be supportive. But she didn't want him to be supportive, didn't want him to be there, all she wanted while she was sick was to be left alone. Emptying one's stomach after a sudden wave of nausea didn't require any support from anyone else. Bent over the toilet bowl at home – or now over a patch of green she did not require anybody to pet her back. She did not want anybody to be present to tell her that everything would be fine, that everything surely would be better soon. It wasn't. It wouldn't be soon. She was the one that had to endure this for another two to four weeks. And she rather chose to endure it being all on her own.

He looked at her, apparently unconvinced that she was in fact better. "Are you sure?" He asked unassertively. "Bones, you have been sick almost every day over the last few weeks. Surely this cannot be good for you and the baby! I wish you would let me drive you home to get some rest..."

"What baby...?" They heard Hodgins ask while he approached them. "Dr. B., we have found some very unusual marks on the bones, Dr. Edison says it appears that someone tried to shatter the bones some time after the victim's death." Hodgins stopped next to them. "You've been gone for quite some time, we've all been worried..." He added his eyes quickly examining the surrounding.

Booth and her looked at him, silent, dumbfounded. The evidence of her having been sick on the grass could not be overlooked unnoticed by the watchful eye of a scientist like Hodgins. And he had heard at least that last part of their conversation. She took a deep breath, partly to fight the sickness – and partly to prepare herself for the inevitable explanation the situation required.

"Nausea Gravidarum?" Hodgins asked.

There was no way of denying it. "Yes." She answered almost soundless.

Booth looked questioningly from Hodgins to her and back to Hodgins. But he did not say a word.

"I...," she hesitated, "...we, ...we are not ready to tell everyone yet." She continued.

"You... and Agent Booth... Wow." Hodgins concluded. "Congratulations!" He then quickly added.

"Thank you..." Booth said. "But as Bones has said – we are still busy ourselves figuring it all out..."

She wasn't sure how Booth had meant it. Was this a nonverbal hint that Booth would shoot Hodgins if he told anyone else? Now that Hodgins knew would he tell Angela? She had planned to tell Angela about her pregnancy as soon as she had concluded her first trimester. Angela would be back to work from her maternity leave then and she wanted to ask Angela a couple of questions about pregnancy and about motherhood, questions that did not seem to be explained in any of the scientific guidebooks about pregnancy.

"You secret is safe with me." Hodgins proclaimed in a oddly solemn way. "I swear!" He emphasized looking at Booth.

"Okay." Booth sounded relieved. "Tell Cam we will be back in a moment."

They watched Hodgins go. Could he be trusted to keep his promise – perhaps towards the rest of the team but probably not when it came to Angela. Well, their secret was out now, that couldn't be undone.

"We have to go back." She reminded Booth. "Perhaps we can buy some water somewhere. I need to rinse my mouth." She said remembering the taste in her mouth.

"I have a bottle of water in my car. I will get it for you." He touched her face again. "You still look pale. I wish you would take the rest of the day off. Only one day!" He softly left a kiss on her temple.

While Booth went to get the water bottle from his car she slowly went back to the others where the team had already bagged the human remains and only Hodgins was still busy taking samples from the pile of burned wood under which the body had lain for several months.

"Dr. Brennan!" Cam said relieved seeing her come back. Cam eyed her closely.

Had Hodgins told her that she had vomited? Doubts came to her, Hodgins had had enough time to inform them all about her pregnancy – but then, he had promised to her and to Booth that he wouldn't. She worked together with Hodgins closely, she had to be able to trust him.

"I believe my stomach is rather upset about something I had for breakfast this morning." She explained. That at least was close to the truth.

Booth came back and handed her the water bottle. Though she didn't feel like drinking any of it she was very glad that she could clean her mouth. She longed to brush her teeth, too, but for the moment properly rinsing her mouth would have to suffice. She went a few steps aside to gargle with the water aware four pairs of eyes were on her. There could be no doubt to anyone anymore that she had been sick.

"She says she has eaten something bad this morning." Cam explained to Booth when she returned to the group.

Booth nodded gravely. He still looked concerned, his eyes always on her. "We didn't eat that much actually." He murmured to himself.

"You had breakfast together? This morning?" Cam asked surprised.

"Well... er..., yeah." Booth replied. "..At the diner!" He quickly added. "Obviously I did not have the same toast as Bones. I am fine."

She was confused. Why did Booth claim that they had been at the diner this morning? In between the calls informing them about the new case and both of them arriving at the crime scene had hardly passed an hour. Under no circumstances they would have been able to still pass by at the diner to have breakfast there. She did not understand it.

"Cam, would you please tell Bones to go home to have some rest?" Booth asked while he watched Cam packing up her equipment. "You're her boss."

She had knelt down the retrieve the case with her tool set but immediately got up to protest. At least her blood pressure did not seem to oppose that violently anymore to her moving into an upright position all too quickly. "No. Booth!" She said. "I am fine now." It was ridiculous to go home when she was perfectly capable to perform her work for the remainder of the day. Also they had a new case now! She needed to perform the examination of the bones. She was needed and did not see any need to call in sick. Surely Cam had to acknowledge this.

Cam looked from Booth to her. "Dr. Brennan, you still do look pale." Cam finally said. "Taking the rest of the day off surely can't hurt..."

"My words!" Booth chipped in. "Thank you! THANK YOU, Cam!"

"I could do the preliminary examination of the remains." Clark said.

"What...? No...!" She protested. Why was there no one on her side? Hodgins? But he still appeared to be busy with collecting wood and soil samples. "Booth is working with me. I am his partner. I am the link between the Jeffersonian and the FBI!"

"Bones, we know that." Booth said. For some reason the way in which he said it infuriated her.

"And we will work on this case together as soon as you had had some rest, okay?" Booth came over to her, took her hand.

They had agreed not to show their affection in public. And, she was angry, angry that he made decisions for her. That he obviously abused his friendship with Cam to influence Cam against her, against her own judgment. She withdrew her hand from him. The surprised expression on his face almost gave her satisfaction. She was carrying his child, but that didn't mean he could make decisions for her. She actually felt weak, having to explain herself. But she would not give up that easily. "I said I am fine. I do not need any rest! I was sick this morning, but now I am fine!" She emphasized. This was ridiculous. They surely had to make a decision based on facts. And the fact was that she was fine now.

"Dr. Brennan, I'd rather concur with Seeley on that one. You have been sick not an hour ago, you should go home and not work in a scientific facility today. Dr. Edison can carry out the examination of the body..." Cam declared.

"But..." She interjected.

"Go home! Pamper yourself!" Cam cut her off. "We all need a day to recuperate from time to time. You surely deserve to have one today!" Cam sounded as if she unmistakably would not change her decision. Even when it defied every rational principle.

Booth appeared to be content with Cam's decision. "Come on, I'll drive you home." Again he touched her.

"No." She withdrew herself again from Booth' touch. She was very angry. "Dr. Hodgins, would you be so kind as to take my tool set back to the Jeffersonian with you?" She addressed Hodgins ignoring Booth. She needed to be alone, needed to think. What was happening right at this moment was not rational. She saw Hodgins nodding at her request and left her case behind to head for Booth's car in order to get her bag pack.

Irately she opened the car door to fetch her belongings. When she closed the door of the car and turned around again Booth stood next to her.

"Bones." He said placatively. Him touching her on her shoulder almost made her wanting to slap it away. "Don't you dare patronize me!" She rebuked.

He looked distressed. "Bones, I..., I didn't..." He appeared to be searching for words. "Let me..."

"I wanna be on my own." She sharply cut him off, then walked past him. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself on her own. She did not need any assistance from Booth. She took out her cellular phone. "Yes. This is Dr. Temperance Brennan. I want to order a cab..."

The remainder of the morning and the afternoon passed by rather quickly. At first she had been very angry that she had been forced to stay away from work, that she had been asked to rest when there clearly was no necessity for her to remain at home. Due to Dr. Saroyan's unfounded irrational decision she would miss the crucial first hours of the new murder investigation. Dr. Edison was undoubtedly a proficient scientist, however he was not as good as she was. And in the interest of the FBI to solve this murder case quickly and thoroughly she should have been the one to examine the remains. After all she was the best anthropologist in the country, if not in the world!

The nausea which she had suffered from earlier that morning had vanished completely. Therefore she decided to work through the heap of scientific papers which had piled up unread and unreviewed on the desk in her living room over the last couple of weeks. She had to admit that after a while she even reached a state of contentment about her current situation – for the first time in weeks she was in her own home, on her own, and with sufficient time on her hands to accomplish some scientific review work without substantial intermission.

Ever since she was in an actual relationship with Booth most evenings she had lacked even the time to keep up with her reading list of new anthropological publications. Booth preferred them to spend all their days and nights together – because according to him that was 'what all couples generally did'. However, she did not have sufficient tangible experience herself in order to have been able herself to evaluate how much time couples engaged in a romantic relationship generally needed to spend together. For the major part they stayed at his apartment. Because he owned the bigger – and for that reason apparently more favorable – TV set. For her it would have been acceptable to spend more time apart from each other. But Booth never seemed to take any work home with him and appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact that scientific work most often required the devotion of additional hours after work.

She could not deny that ever since she and Booth were romantically involved she had exceedingly neglected her scientific work. Mostly she had relented in order to accommodate his desire to spend time together. Of course, did she enjoy spending her time with him. She also enjoyed that they now shared a life together, that she wasn't all on her own anymore which sometimes had evoked a feeling of loneliness. She now owned the comfort to be able to cuddle up to another human being and to frequently engage in highly satisfying sexual activity. Therefore now being involved in a romantic relationship with Booth all in all evidently outweighed the indisputable advantages of living a life on her own.

And admittedly, while he was watching TV or pursuing one his hobbies she still found the time to engage herself likewise in research work or in the evaluation of scholarly pieces – but still, while she was with Booth, she could never pursue her work with the same intensity like when she had been all on her own, and in the comfort and amenities of her own apartment, Only there, and while being all on her own, she was truly able to work totally concentrated and single-minded, and undisturbed.

Booth called her at least four times during the day. But given the events of the morning, and feeling that she was still angry about his interference she chose to ignore all of his calls. Reviewing scholastic pieces and papers required a high level of concentration. After all, several scientific magazines relied on her evaluation whether she deemed a scientific piece fit for publication or not. Several editors had contacted her over the last few weeks and had already expressed their surprise about her missing input and her lack to hand in more reviews. Therefore it was perhaps for the better that today she had been made to stay home. Soon, after the birth of the baby, naturally she would only be able to devote even less time – if any at all – to scientific research and reviewing.

Responding to an e-mail from a former colleague who was now working for the American Anthropological Association she promptly received a reply asking her if she would be available to deliver a speech at the Maya Symposium in Mérida the following Saturday. The primary speaker, Professor Kathy Reichs from North Carolina, had been forced to revoke her participation due to a sudden illness. Finding an adequate substitute on such a short notice appeared to be almost impossible. In fact, her former colleague could not think of anyone else but her bearing the adequate expert knowledge. The symposium, however, would not be able to offer any financial compensation, but if desired could offer a guided visit to the acclaimed archeological excavation of the Caracol Archaeological Project in Belize.

She was sad to decline such an interesting and desirable opportunity. She loved Mexico, and she had always been greatly interested in the Mayan culture. Being provided with the possibility to visit the renowned excavations at Caracol definitely presented a singular opportunity. However, she simply could not leave for a full week during a murder investigation. If the invitation had only come a day earlier she probably would have accepted it, but now she politely had to decline.

Her phone rang while she was typing her response to her former colleague. At first she ignored it, believing it to be yet another attempt of Booth to contact her. But then she recognized the calling number was most definitely from the Jeffersonian. Perhaps they had found out that they indeed needed her expertise examining the bones.

"Brennan." She said, wondering what could have taken them from 9 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon to finally assess that they would need her help.

"Dr. Brennan." It was Dr. Saroyan. "...How are you feeling?" Cam asked.

"I am fine. Thank you." She replied. Why was Dr. Saroyan calling her?

"I just wanted to let you know that the body we found this morning could be identified as Mr. Mark Acker. Mr. Acker died of a heart attack last November. His remains were conveyed to the Serenity funeral home on November 19th, however, the hearse with Mr. Acker's human remains was stolen from the yard of the funeral home..." Cam explained.

"Oh," she said. "...So, cause of death wasn't a homicide then." She added.

"No." Cam confirmed. "That's why Seeley will hand over the case to the local authorities. They will need to investigate how the remains ended up burned in a stack of wood in Bethesda..."

"...We don't have a case, then?" She asked, feeling the need to have it officially confirmed by Dr. Saroyan. If the case was annulled she could go to Mexico. She could not help that she actually felt happy about it.

"No." Cam said. "Dr. Edison is packing up the remains and all the evidence right now to have it shipped over to Montgomery County."

"I need to take a week of absence." She told Cam. Of course, she would go to Mexico then.

"...Pardon me?" Cam asked.

"I have been invited to a symposium in Mérida by the American Anthropological Association. If we do not have an ongoing investigation anymore I am able to accept their invitation..."

Cam did not say anything for a short while. "...I think you should discuss that with Seeley..." She finally said.

"I don't understand." She replied. Why was she required to talk to Booth regarding a leave of absence? She did not need to ask the FBI for any permission to go to Mexico. Actually she did not even need to ask Cam, she only needed to inform her that she would not be available for the entire next week – which she had just done. "I'm sorry but I need to hang up now..." She informed Cam. "I still need to confirm the invitation, and book the flight – and work on my speech for the symposium. I will be back the other Sunday..."

By five in the evening she had confirmed her attendance to the symposium, had booked the flight and an accommodation and had talked on the phone to her former colleague to agree on further details regarding the offered visit to the archeological excavations in Caracol. She needed at least a week, if not ten days to attend the symposium and then to travel down to Belize and back. Even though there were a lot of things she had to organize within a very short frame of time she felt very excited about it all. She had not been to any archaeological excavation since her stay in Maluku.

"Bones?" She heard Booth call for her when he entered her apartment at a quarter to six.

She was right in the middle of researching references for her upcoming speech. She absolutely needed to find a reliable source describing the fascinating Mayan war ritual of displaying of human skulls of war captives in public. She dimly remembered she had read an interesting article about it in a scientific journal, but finding back the source now online appeared to be much more difficult that she had expected. She wished she would have been provided with one or two more days in order to be able to perform a thorough research. Given the limited time frame she had at hand she would have to restrict herself to online resources only.

"Bones!" Booth called again approaching her. "Thank God, you're alright." He added when he found her in front of her laptop. "Bones, what's been going on...?" he sound concerned, "you didn't answer any of my phone calls."

"I've been busy." She said not looking up from her research work. Her flight would go tomorrow in the afternoon, which only left her with roughly 18 hours to prepare her speech. Even when she worked through the whole night it would still be a very tight schedule.

"What are you doing?" He asked and came up behind her. "Rituals in Mayan warfare..." He read out aloud the headline on her laptop. "Wow. Now that must be fascinating if do not have any time to answer the phone." He bent down to kiss her face. "I still wish you would get some rest." He said gently.

She slightly pulled away from his kiss, irritated by his sudden touch. It disrupted her current line of thought.

"You're still angry." He stated while he got up again. "Look, ...about this morning..., I really wasn't trying to make any decision for you. It's just... well, we all agreed that you looked really miserable and exhausted... I know how hard this has been on you over the last few weeks – feeling sick all the time..."

"I'm fine." She replied mechanically. Where was the source again for the tzompantli in Chichen Itza? Hadn't she saved it just a moment ago. She needed to concentrate.

"Bones." Booth said after a while putting bags on the kitchen counter. "...Remember Wong Foo's, where we used to go back when we had our first cases together...?"

She did not reply. How was she supposed to compile a distinguished speech while Booth wanted to converse about a Chinese restaurant.

"Anyway, ...his cousin has just opened this new place now. So I thought I drop by there to get us some nice Chinese take-away for diner..." The paper bags rustled while he unpacked the take-away, the plates clattered against each other when he took them out from the shelf.

The noises from the kitchen drove her mad. Unnerved she sighed. "I told you I am busy!" She said sharply looking up from her laptop for the first time.

He brought over the plates from the kitchen. "Yes. But, you've got to eat something. The baby needs food, too..." He set the plates down on the living room table. "Especially when mommy is busy burning up all energy for that lovely intelligent brain of hers..." He teased, indicating her to come over to him.

She signed. As long as he was talking to her she would never be able to solely concentrate on the reasearch for her speech. She had to admit the food smelled good. She felt that she was actually hungry. A ten minute break from her reasearch would probably do her good.

Booth handed her the chopsticks. "There you go." Sitting close to her, his hand gently patted over her back. He seemed to be relieved that she had agreed to have dinner with him. For a minute they ate in silence. "Hey, by the way, I wanted to tell you that the case is off... The remains we found this morning, well, it turned out that the man died of natural causes. His dead body apparently later was snatched from a funeral home..." Booth shook his head indicating his disgust.

"That's a pleonasm." She replied.

"What?" He asked questioningly.

"Dead body." She said. "'Dead body' is a pleonasm. 'Body' in this case already indicates it is dead. Additonally using 'dead' as a qualifier to 'body' therefore is redundant..." She explained to Booth.

"Right." He said. "...Anyway, I am glad that body snatching does not fall under the jurisdiction of the FBI. The local authorities will take care of it." He smiled, gently rubbed a spot of soy sause from her cheek. "You don't seem to be surprised that the case is closed..."

"No." She said. "Dr. Saroyan called me earlier. She informed me that cause of death was not a homicide, therefore the whole case would be handed over to the authorities of Montgomery County."

He frowned. "You answered Cam's call – but none of mine..." He sounded sad.

"Dr. Saroyan could have asked for valuable information for the case. She could have asked for me to help with the case." She explained.

"I could have called with a question regarding the case, too." He protested. "Alright, alright." He said. "...You were angry, I get that. I am sorry, okay? I am very sorry that I made you angry." He cupped her face with his hand, lifted her head that she would meet his eyes. "Are we ok now...? He asked.

"Yes." She said, feeling that she truly wasn't angry with him anymore. Still, she needed to explain to him that she didn't have any time to spend this evening with him. Nevertheless, she met his lips halfway, kissed him. He embraced her, she wondered whether the ten minutes that she had granted herself as a break from her research had already passed.

He smiled when their lips parted. "So, you're not disappointed that the case is off altogether..." He sounded relieved.

"No." She admitted faithfully. "I've already entered into an other engagement." She nooded at her laptop. Telling him that she needed to be on her own this evening was the hardest part.

"What... Indian warefare?" He chuckled. "That is the plan for the weekend?" He bent down to kiss her neck. "I could teach you about the warefare of Seeley Booth..." He whispered against her skin.

"Booth!" She protested. He clearly did not understand the magnitude of delivering a speech at a symposium in front of several dozens of reputable experts on the field. "Booth, I still need to compile my speech." She needed him to stop. She needed to go back to her research. "I have only very little time to do so. My flight is already leaving tomorrow at two."

"Flight?" Booth asked hesitantly. "You're going away...?"

"Yes." She said. "The Mayan Symposium will take place in Mérida. It the most renowned convention about Mayan culture this year." She explained proudly. Surely even Booth understood the importance of it now.

"Meridá?" Booth asked, mispronouncing the Spanish accentuation. He appeared to be uneasy about it.

"Mérida." She corrected him. "In Mexico...Well, actually I will be going to Mexico AND Belize – since Caracol is in Belize." She gently petted his arm. She actually felt exited about going there.

"What...?" He asked, no longer embracing her. He frowned. "But..., when..., when did you decide to go Mexico...?" He even sounded shocked.

"I've only been asked today. Dr. Reichs, the original speaker had to cancel her participation due to illness." She explained to Booth. She did not understand his reaction. "I understand this engagement has come up rather unexpectedly and on very short notice." She tried to soothe.

"Bones, you cannot go to Mexico..." He replied.

"Why...?" She asked. "I, ...I do not understand."

"You're pregnant..." He said emphatically.

"...Excuse me?" She did not see the significance. She was not that far along yet that she was deemed unfit to fly.

"It's dangerous." He said. "Mexico is too dangerous – hit men killing innocent people on the streets, all that violence and drug crime. You cannot bring our child into that!"

"Booth, I am going to Yucatan, not to Chihuahua or Baja California. Also, for the most part I'll be staying at the excavation site in Belize and not at any major city." She explained.

"It will be dirty, and muddy... There will be dangerous animals..." He dissented. "Bones, it is July. You're pregnant, you have not been feeling well for the last couple of weeks – it will be hot, and dirty – and dangerous!" He laid his hand on her shoulder. "Bones, please..."

She jumped up, angered that again he was trying to make decisions for her. She felt fine. She had been to more dirty, to more dangerous places before. This was a unique opportunity. Of course, she would be going. Of course, Booth could not understand the importance of it all. She didn't have time to discuss it now. "I have to get back to my speech." She said sharply. She sat down in front of her laptop again, tried to remember where she had left off. She had lost at least half an hour! God, why couldn't he leave her alone, at least for tonight.

"Bones, can we at least discuss this?" He came over to her. He now sounded angry, too.

"I will be going Booth!" She sighed. How was she supposed to concentrate like this.

"You didn't even ask if I was okay with this..." He complained. "...What about us, our plans...?"

She looked up from her laptop again. "I don't recall any other previous engagements..." She said annoyed. "We are currently not on any ongoing murder investigation." Of course, she would never have agreed to leave while they were on a case. But they weren't. Therefore she was free to go. She was free to do whatever she liked. She did not need to ask Booth for permission. "I already informed Dr. Saroyan that I will not be available the coming week..."

"A week...?" Booth sounded confused. "No. No. No. You said – over the weekend..." He added angrily.

"I never said – over the weekend..." She corrected him. "I shall be speaking at the symposium Saturday. After that I am invited to visit the unique excavations at Caracol." He probably didn't even know where Caracol was. "In Belize." She added. Then turned back to her work. "Visiting the excavations will take about five or six days. I will be back the other Sunday." It was not rational diverting her attention any longer by discussing a decision she had already made and which she would not revoke. She had already arranged everything, except for the final draft of her speech she was ready to go.

"What...?" She heard him jump up from the couch now, too. He brought the plates over to the kitchen counter. "What about me...? You're leaving for ten days. But you forget to tell me about that..."

"I'm telling you now..." She said. She did not see what was the problem about that.

"Bones, we love each other. We've been seeing each other for several weeks now. We're in a relationship together!" He specified sounding calm but angry. "We soon will be a family! Families talk about these things. People in relationships talk about things, they discuss things with each other, they compromise!" He started to clean the rest of the table.

"Yes. We've spent time together for several weeks now." She concurred. He obviously did not see that that was the problem. "I don't understand what appears to be the problem not spending all our time together... I am sure there were multiple activities which you were not able to perform over the last several weeks because you were spending your spare time together with me – as have been likewise on my part."

"Which activities...? He asked confused. "I don't wanna be apart from you. I don't want to do anything that does not include you... I love you!" He emphasized.

She frowned. She looked up, towards him, but did not say anything.

"But... you need to be on your own..." He concluded after a while.

"Yes." She said. Thank God, he understood.

He put down the glasses that he had cleared away from the table. "You, ...you want me to leave... Now."

"Yes." Finally, finally she would get the quiet she needed. It was only a quarter to seven. Getting back to work immediately she could still manage to compile at least an acceptable first draft of her speech. Tomorrow evening at the hotel she could still work on the final draft, hopefully internet access would be readily available there.

"Okay, alright." She head him say. "Call me when you're back." He added subdued. "Goodbye."


	8. Stormy weather

_**Stormy weather**_

BRENNAN

She felt she was very tired when she finally stepped out into the dim light of the late Sunday afternoon. The clouds hung low over Washington. Given the earlier events of the day, however, she was prepared to meet bad weather conditions returning to Washington D.C.

She had left Mérida early this morning as scheduled. Only shortly after having arrived at her stopover in Houston she had actually been informed that all flights to destinations in the major part of the middle Atlantic states would be delayed due to bad weather conditions. On the info screens at the airport she had heard a newsman even speak of the possibility of small tornadoes occurring locally.

She had spent an extensive part of the late morning with a decaffeinated coffee reading a scientific journal at the first class lounge at George Bush Intercontinental Airport awaiting further information when her delayed connecting flight would finally be rescheduled to leave for Washington. Fortunately the first class lounge had provided excellent service and amenities, and even though several flights had been delayed or canceled it had been surprisingly uncrowded. She had had to admit that after all the liveliness, the vitality and the colorfulness of Mexico and Belize she had enjoyed the quietness of the lounge immensely.

Remembering she was back in the US, and therefore back in an area with steady cellphone reception she had tried to call Booth but had only reached his voice mail. Dimly she recalled that the current weekend had been scheduled as one of the rare occasions on which Parker would stay overnight at Booth' apartment. Most likely, when she had called Booth he had probably been out to a sports game with Parker. She had left a message informing him about the delay of her flight. Perhaps, in case the flight would not be delayed indefinitely, she would still manage to see him tonight. During her ten days apart she only spoken to him once when highly elated after having delivered her speech at the symposium she had wanted tell tell him all about it and had called him. He had said very little during that phone call and had replied to her account of the symposium in a rather curt manner. Since the phone call had been on a Saturday afternoon and noise coming from the TV in the background she probably had caught him while watching one of his beloved sports games. Still the brevity of their conversation and his lack of response had left her rather irritated. It had seemed to her that all he had wanted to be assured of was that she and the baby had been fine. Which of course they had been.

The excavation site of the Caracol Archaeological Project in Belize had been located miles away from the nearest city. Establishing cellphone reception had been impossible there. For emergencies the excavation site of course was equipped with a satellite phone. However, talking to one's boyfriend could hardly have been considered as a case of emergency. Therefore she had not spoken to Booth for over a week and had been rather disappointed when her call had gone straight to voice mail to morning. She had felt that she longed to see him, longed to speak to him in person. All she had wanted was to get back home.

The whole week had been exhausting. Interesting, educational, totally worthwhile – but highly exhausting, more than she had expected it to be. She had had quite forgotten about how the humidity of the air circulation in the jungle could make a temperature of 90 °F quite insupportable. For once she had been highly contented that she had come only as a visitor and had not actually needed to help to dig up any remains on the site. At least the change of climate had appeared to agree well with her pregnancy, she had not encountered any more fits of nausea ever since that last one at the crime scene.

Her expertise as a distinguished anthropologist had been highly welcomed by the head archaeologist. She had been given a modest working space in one of the archaeological tents, where for the greater part of the week students had dropped by to bring freshly dug up human bones which she had examined and had tried to classify. Of course, classifying human remains with only the help of the simple means available at the excavation site had been totally different from her work at the Jeffersonian where she had all the newest scientific devices readily available. But she had enjoyed working like this very much. It reminded her of her previous stays at other excavation sites. There she had learned the basic principles of anthropological fieldwork. Perhaps, later when the baby would be old enough to understand the basic rules of an excavation site she would take him or her back to one. Perhaps Booth then would enjoy to accompany them, too? She had heavily sighed thinking of Booth. There was no guarantee that they would still be together when the baby was older. He did not seem to understand the importance of her scientific work and she certainly could never abandon it altogether. It was a sticking point that would have to be discussed.

At 3 in the afternoon she had been informed that her flight to Washington would finally leave, though the weather conditions on the East coast had not significantly improved. She had been advised about the possibility that depending on the actual local weather situation her plane could be diverted to Baltimore or even to as far as Philadelphia. She had not minded that, Philadelphia was a lot closer to Washington and therefore much more favorable than remaining detained in Houston.

Though the flight had ended up as a rather unpleasant one with several turbulences, in the end the decision had been made not to divert the plane. She had been thankful for it, after having been on her way home since 7 a.m. that morning she longed for nothing more than a shower and for the comfort of her own home.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted her car in the parking lot of the airport. It had started to rain and she quickly realized that coming from 77°F in Mexico she was dressed too lightly, now facing a mere 62°F back in Washington. She quickly got inside the car and found herself dumbfounded that the heating did not immediately start to work. She started the car but the car wouldn't start either. Great, this was great. She absolutely did not need this. She tried to recall whether she probably could have left the lights on, but her flight to Mexico had left in the afternoon, therefore it proved highly unlikely that she would have left the lights switched on at all.

At the third attempt the Prius finally started and she felt nothing but relief that she didn't have to face a problem with the battery this evening. She made a mental note to set up an appointment with the garage in order to still have the car checked on one of the following days.

The rain was pouring down heavily when she left Dulles behind. Even though the windshield wiper was operating at the highest possible velocity she could hardly see anything through the masses of water that came pouring down when she entered the highway. She was lucky though, if her plane had been scheduled for only half an hour later it most probably would have been diverted to another airport, given that the center of the storm appeared to be right over Washington at that moment. She slowed down sufficiently to avoid hydroplaning. Fortunately hardly any other car seemed to be driving on the highway at that hour. Most people had probably adhered to the warning of the weather forecast that the weather conditions this evening would be highly unpleasant. If the weather remained like this she doubted it was a favorable idea to still drive over to Booth' apartment once she had safely reached the security of her own home. Perhaps he could be convinced to come over to her apartment, but then he would have to drive through this horrible weather. No, she sighed, eventually leaving the highway, she had to accept that she would not see Booth any time before tomorrow. She felt she was saddened about it. For some reason she had longed to see him still tonight, had fought the feeling that she missed him, that she had grown to miss him immensely over the past few days and had nurtured on the fact that she would see him again tonight.

While lost in her thoughts water suddenly splashed up from all sides around her car when the car went through an overflow at the exit of the highway. Startled by it she shrieked and almost missed to stop at the red light. She braked hard. The car stopped in front of the traffic light, the engine stalled. Then, except for the noise of the heavy raindrops incessantly hitting against the car's window panes, there was silence. Great, she thought, as the car failed to start again. This was not good. Not good at all. She had no knowledge how impermeable to splash-water the Prius was, perhaps the splashing water could have damaged the electrical system. In order to assess the damage she would have to have a look from the outside.

She shrieked again when stepping outside her feet ended up in a puddle of ankle-deep cold water. Carefully she waded around the front of the car. All she could determine was that the Prius stood right in the middle of an overflow of approximately 4 inches in depth. She would need help. Slowly she went around the car to get her cellphone. The door on the passenger side was locked, which was most unpleasant as she had to wade once more through the overflow to get back to the driver's side. She shivered, she only wore a thin long-sleeved jersey which after barely a minute outside in the heavy rain now for the most part was already soaked. She doubted that the coat she had brought along in her luggage would hold out for much longer. Back at the driver's door she pulled the handle but the driver's side appeared to be locked as well. She tried the rear door, then tried the trunk. Panic rose in her. This was not happening. This could not be happening. The vehicle obviously had locked her out. Feveredly she pushed all the buttons on the car key in her hand. Nothing seemed to work. Horrified, she realized that apart from the car key she had not taken anything outside with her. Her purse, her money, her cellphone, all her clothes were inside the car – a car which she was not able to open. This was bad. More than bad. She looked around, someone had to be there, someone had to help her. She was Dr. Temperance Brennan, a world famous anthropologist and successful author, and she had sufficient money to pay for help. Why was there nobody around now when she needed help? Someone had to be there to help her, someone had to come along. However, waiting for help outside in the rain was not a good idea, and therefore it was not an option. Frustrated she banged against the window pane of the driver's door. She had to break the window. She tried one of her Karate strikes only to howl in pain. The impact had only bruised her hand but had not even left a crack on the glass. Oh God, she then remembered that when she had ordered the car due to the dangerous nature of their job Booth had asked her to opt for security glass. Great, her car was so secure that nobody could break in either.

She considered her options. It was about 62°F, raining heavily. She was already soaked. Soon she would be experiencing the first symptoms of hypothermia. Walking home on foot, though highly unpleasant, was a possibility. However the key for her apartment was inside her car and she would have to depend on the doorman to help her. She certainly had no desire to explain the whole situation and to wait until someone could be found to open the door of her apartment without a key. Her dad, Angela and Booth all had spare keys to her apartment, but her dad was away on holiday and Angela was definitely no option as she couldn't possibly walk all the way out to the Hodgins' mansion in that heavy rain. Therefore walking all the way to Booth's apartment remained her only option. Surely he would be back home by now.

She wrapped her arms protectively around her body feeling that her muscles already had begun to shiver in order to maintain homeostasis. She had to get going. Soon after she had set off a single car overtook her and almost drenched her with more water. Before she was even able to indicate that she needed help it had already passed by. Trying to stop cars in this pouring rain was not a good idea. She could get even more drenched or worse even overrun and hurt. She had to focus on her primary option, though the three miles to Booth' apartment seemed like five to her.

She almost felt like crying when she finally reached the house. She was so cold, she did not recall that she had ever felt that cold in her whole life. Her whole body shivered violently. Her teeth clattered. She felt she could not walk another 100 yards. She knocked on his door ready to drop herself down exhausted right there on his doorstep. But nothing happened. No noise came from his apartment, no one stirred. She cried out in frustration. Where was he? Why wasn't he at home? Why did nobody help her? She took a deep breath, getting upset certainly did not help her in this situation, on the contrary she had to preserve her energy, she had to keep moving in order to get warm again. An idea crossed her mind. She remembered Booth' weird neighbor, the old lady that had borrowed Dr. Sweets the sweater on the day Booth and her had gotten stuck in the elevator, Mrs...? She tried hard but she was not able not recall the name. Hypothermia was already affecting her intellectual capability. Surely she could borrow a blanket until Booth would come back. What if he would not come back at all or only in a few hours? Her body shivered so violently at that idea that only with difficulty she was able to push the button for the doorbell of Booth' neighbor. Again nothing happened. Why? She did not understand it. Why had the whole world deserted her? Why did nobody respond to her cry of help? Exhausted she dropped herself on one of the winding stairs. She could not leave, she could not go out into the rain again. She had to get warm first, she had to make sure she stayed alert, stayed conscious. She had to keep her body temperature up in order to protect the baby. The baby, she thought. A tear run down her face. No, she would not give up, soon Booth would be here. He had to come, had to help her. As long as her muscles still trembled it was a good sign, it meant that her body was fighting the hypothermia.

"Bones!" He said surprised coming up two steps at a time. "What...?" He asked, "..what happened...?"

She looked up, dazed from a state of half-consciousness which she must have drifted into. She wanted to answer him but her teeth clattered so violently that she was not able to pronounce a single word. He knelt down to meet her face to face. Though the change of position sent violent chills through her whole body she somehow managed to put her arms around his neck. And then she sobbed. Whether out of relief that he finally had come or out of total exhaustion she was not able to say.

"Shh!" He comforted her, gently rubbing her back. "Oh God, you're completely wet..." He took off his jacket, put it around her. "Come on, we need to get you warm!" He sounded concerned. He pulled her up.

She stumbled somewhat sidewards. To fight hypothermia her body must have constricted the circulation to her extremities, therefore her legs felt numb and obviously failed to carry her. She would have to encourage to increase blood circulation by massaging her lower extremities first. But any change of position as much as lifting only one arm felt almost unbearable and sent her entire body into yet another fit of violent shiver. She feared that she could not be of very much help when it came to leaving the stairs in her current condition. Perhaps Booth could get a blanket and help to warm her up until she would be able to move.

"Okay." Booth said. "Alright." He grasped her legs and picked her up and carried her up the stairs.

She felt too exhausted to protest. She had to trust him that he would not drop her. She knew she loved him. And Angela had said love was all about trust. She hung onto him, her head buried against the curve of his neck. His skin felt warm and soothing. Somehow through her clouded intellectual capacity she realized amazed how much her life depended on him. And that she was fine with that.

Still carrying her he fumbled with the door key, but he only set her down once they had reached the couch in his living room. He grabbed for a thick blanket which he tightly wrapped around her. Then he switched on the coffee maker to heat up water.

For some time she just sat there, motionless, pulling the blanket tight, and waited for her circulation to warm up and her muscles to stop constricting.

He quickly came back to her, embraced her, rubbed over the blanket to warm her up. "Your lips are blue." He said worriedly. "I'm going to call a doctor..."

"No." She uttered between her clattering teeth. She shook her head. "I need..." She fought to gain back control of her jaws. "... a bath." She finally manged to say. She knew the most unpleasant part would be to get undressed, but it had to be done. She would never get warm as long as she remained in her drenched clothes.

"Yes. Yes, of course! I should have thought of that..." Booth said and immediately set off for the bathroom. She heard him turning on the water.

Slowly she took off the soaked jersey. She had to fight against the feeling that she would not be able to do it. She felt extremely cold. Even her fingers appeared to be numb which made it more difficult to undress. It took her a whole minute to unbutton her jeans, trying to open the zipper she failed altogether. "Booth?" She asked, waiting for him to return from the bathroom. "I can't..." She sighed, this was actually embarrassing. "I can't unzip my jeans..." She did not understand why she felt like she wanted to cry again. Crying about not being able to unzip one's pants was rather childish. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that prompted her to tear up.

"Okay." Booth said. He bent down and helped her undress her jeans.

A memory flashed by. Years ago, during a murder investigation he had been splattered with the human remains of an alleged suicide bomber and she had to undress him down to his underpants. All for the purpose of not contaminating the remains which were part of the evidence, of course. Perhaps he had felt as weird as she felt now. While they had made love they had of course occasionally pulled off each other clothes a couple of times, but Booth helping her now to undress felt strange in a weird, totally asexual kind of way.

"I think the bath is ready." He said pointing towards the bathroom. "Do you need help...?"

She shook her head. He really did not need to carry her again. She was much better already.

He helped her get up though. "I'm gonna make some tea. Or some soup. Do you want soup?"

"Tea is fine." She said and then slowly made her way to the bathroom. When she lifted one foot into the bathwater she squeaked. It appeared to be boiling hot.

Booth appeared in the door frame at once alarmed by her scream. "What happened...? What's wrong?" He asked concerned.

"I..., I can't do this." She uttered. "...The water is too hot." Panic rose in her. It was a common phenomenon that people suffering from hypothermia could go a shock when exposed to too much heat too quickly.

"The water is fine." Booth asserted. "Come on, Bones, you're still shivering. You need to get in there, okay? ...Do you want me to stay and help you?"

Under different circumstances she would have objected to him staying but now she found herself nodding. Her thermoception was clearly impaired. Again she had to trust Booth, had to trust in his judgment.

He helped her into the bath tub. He gently rubbed her face while she had her eyes closed and waited for the the soothing warmth to relax her muscles.

For minutes neither of them spoke. Then she told him what had happened earlier that evening and that she urgently needed to get back to retrieve the car as it had not been save to leave the car just where it had broken down. He shook his head, said that he wouldn't let her go out there again. That he would take care of it.

"Booth, I don't want you to go out there again either." She replied concerned. "It's dangerous."

He laughed. "You're the most singular woman I know, d'you know that?"

She looked at him puzzled. Did 'singular' in that context imply a positive or a negative connotation?

"You're what..., 11 weeks, 12 weeks pregnant...?" He asked. "...You walked 3 miles through the pouring rain – on foot. And – now you tell ME, that it is too dangerous for me to go out there..."

"I had no other choice!" She protested. "You were the only one within reach in possession of a spare key to my apartment." She signaled him to hand her a towel.

"Great." He said passing the the towel over to her. "So now I'm only the guy with the key. If I hadn't had one you wouldn't have come..." He left the bathroom. "And I thought we were in a relationship..." He muttered to himself going away.

She thought about it. He had actually sounded annoyed. Had she said something wrong?

He came back bringing along his bathrobe for her. "Bones, look..."

"I missed you." She interrupted him. "I'm glad that I'd come here tonight." She got up, toweled herself dry, slipped into the bathrobe he upheld for her. It smelled like him, a gentle touch of his aftershave still lingering.

He tied the fabric belt around her waist, then pulled her close and kissed her. "Let's get you into bed!" He then said and all of a sudden lifted her up from her feet.

She squeaked. "No, Booth! Let me down!" She protested. "I am perfectly able to walk! Let me down at once!"

"Not tonight..." He chuckled. "Tonight I am going to tuck you in."

She was back in the car. Fortunately all her belongings still appeared to be in the car. No one had managed to knock in the window. She turned the key in the ignition but the engine wouldn't start. This was strange. Hadn't someone been supposed to come out and look for the cause of the damage and then fix it? She tried again. Nothing. She didn't recall which workshop she had contacted to look after the car. Had she forgotten to do it? Probably her mental capacity could still be suffering from having been exposed to the rain and the cold for too long. She looked down. The floor was wet. This was not good, had water leaked into her car? She looked up to the roof. She could not determine that any water had leaked through the roof. The water clearly came up from below. This was strange, four inches of water, even from a bigger overflow were certainly not high enough to have leaked inside the car up to the carpet. She looked down again, determined to locate the leakage. More water covered the floor. She shrieked, it felt cold around her ankles. She looked for a higher place to rest her feet, she did not want them in the cold water. Still the water rose. She did not understand where all the water was coming from. The windshield was steamed up. She wiped the condensed water away but still everything outside remained hazy. She had to get out of the car, the water now had reached the lower edge of her seat. Soon she would be all wet. She pulled the handle. Once, twice, several times. Panic rose in her, the door would not open. She crawled over to the passenger side, tried the passenger door. It would not open either. She was trapped! But why? She did not understand it. She did not even recall how she had gotten in the car. And how she had gotten back to the car. Had Booth taken her? Where was Booth? Oh God, she looked down, the water had already risen up to her waist now. Surely it had to stop at some level. She did not drive into a lake – or did she? Again she wiped away the condensed water on the windshield, this time more feveredly. There appeared to be no water that high outside of the car. This was surreal. It was not possible. Still the water rose even higher. She would drown in the car, she realized. Oh God, she did not want to drown! She had to do something. She crawled through the cold water into the back of the car, she tried to open the rear doors. They were locked. Who had locked her in? Oh God. Was this some kind of new Gravedigger? Only this time with water? She did not have much time left. The water rising at that level would leave her out of air within two minutes she calculated. She did not want to die. Oh God, if she died, the fetus would die, too. She could not give up! She could not! She shouted, someone had to hear her, someone had to help her! The water was up to her neck now. She screamed. Screamed in blind panic that she would die. Then someone grabbed her arm.

"Bones. Bones!" Booth was next to her, calling her name. Gently he caressed her cheek, then wiped her forehead. She was in his bed. The water had all gone. "You had a nightmare..." He said. "You screamed in panic in your sleep, I got worried..."

She took a couple of deep breaths. It had only been a bad dream, but it had felt so real to her. She felt exhausted, as if she had fought against the rising water for real. "How late is it?" She asked, still dazed from her dream.

"A quarter to ten." He said still petting her face.

"The car..." She remembered.

"It's alright. I called a buddy from the Met. They have found the car and had it towed to a garage. It's safe there, you don't need to worry about the car, okay?"

"Okay." She said. It felt good to be able to rely on another human being. To trust another person absolutely. She was glad that she was no longer alone in this world. She looked at him. He looked worried. "I love you Booth." She said.

"I love you, too." Booth replied. "I..., I missed you. ...You – and the baby..." He bent down and placed a kiss on her lips. "You've been away for much too long." He whispered hoarsely.

"You didn't tell me you missed me when I called last weekend." She stated.

"Bones, I was..."

"Angry." She said before he could finish his sentence. "Because I went without asking you first..." The evening after she had called him from Mexico she had spoken to Angela. Angela had told her that being in a relationship constantly required talking into consideration the other person's opinion, too. Though Angela had had a point, she did not see why she should have asked Booth's opinion regarding scientific matters. He usually made it clear that he was glad to leave the scientific stuff entirely up to her and the squints. And going to Mexico, attending a symposium about Mayan culture had definitely been a scientific matter altogether.

"Bones, it's not about asking for permission..." Booth replied. "It's about making decisions together. Right, we're together now, right?"

"Yes." She said. "...We're romantically and sexually involved."

"You see!" He emphasized. He took her hand, kissed it. "How, ...how would you feel if I told you I was going to Afghanistan tomorrow for the next ten days...?"

"You promised Parker you wouldn't go back there." She replied.

"Okay." He stated, hesitating. "But what if I hadn't promised Parker and would just leave tomorrow without asking you first...?" He continued.

"Well. You would never break a promise made to Parker."

"Fine. Okay, not to Afghanistan then... But what if I went to Iraq, or to Chechnya, or to any really dangerous place without even asking you what you thought about me going there..."

"I would not like it. A war zone like the current one in Iraq is very dangerous and unpredictable." She stated. "BUT – if it were you patriotic duty you would be required to go..."

"Bones." He sighed. "I just want us to talk to each other, to make decisions together, as a couple, agreeing together about things..., okay?"

"Okay." She said. She wasn't sure she had grasped one hundred percent yet, why this was so important to him. But, in the future, she would try to inform him about her plans much more beforehand. "I need more time for my scientific research in the future." Perhaps it was a favorable time to start with it right away.

"Okay. ...Is this what's been going wrong?" He looked at her questioningly.

"I don't know what that means." She replied.

"Before you left, you've been tense, irritated... I know all that morning sickness has been very hard on you..."

"I'm fine now." She chipped in.

"Okay." He smiled about it for a moment, then the expression of concern was all back on his face. "...You know, I almost had the feeling that you were more upset about me watching you having to go through all this than actually about being sick..." He gently petted over her cheek. "You're a strong woman! You're the strongest woman I know." He let his lips brush over hers, then kissed her. "But – I still wanna be there for you..." He emphasized. "We're in this together, you and me – and the baby, okay?"

"Yes." She replied. She loved him very much, even though there were things that she still felt she needed to do without him. She lifted her head to kiss him this time. The kiss soon became passionate. She had missed this so much, she understood that now.

He went on to kiss her neck. "All right." He halted after a short time. "You're too exhausted to make love tonight." He stated.

She thought about it. She still felt very exhausted, he was right. He was very good at reading other people. "You could hold me..." She finally said.

"I'd like that very much." He lay down next to her, put his arm around her. He left a kiss on her temple when her head rested against his shoulder.

She chuckled, took his hand and guided it under the bathrobe onto her belly. "I have a baby bump now. Not a very big one yet, but my abdomen definitely has grown above it's usual size."

"Wow." He said, his hand petting over her belly. "We made this..." He added awestruck. He smiled.

"We need to tell everybody." She said. "I'm over my first trimester now. Soon it is going to show."

"Okay." He replied his hand still on her belly. "I'm going to speak to Parker – before he's leaving to England."

She frowned. "What if he doesn't like it? He has been an only child for all his life..."

"Bones, Parker will be fine! They will all be fine, okay?" He reassured her. "We're talking about a baby here...Our baby." He tenderly turned her face towards him for their eyes to meet. "They'll all be happy for us. You'll see..."


	9. Family matters

_**Family matters**_

BOOTH

Convincing Rebecca that he needed to spend another day with his son only a week after their last regular weekend together had not been to easy. Though he and Rebecca had not been involved in any romantic or sexual relationship for years anymore for some reason he had been unwilling to blurt out straightaway that he was about to start to have a new family. She would get to know about it all soon enough anyway. Again he realized that he was not even able to say how Rebecca would react to it. Whatever reasons he had had a decade ago that had led him to propose to her and led him to believe that he and Rebecca could spend the rest of their lives together – he did not see them now. Rebecca was..., well, she always had been... kind of unpredictable.

And that was one thing which he truly loved about Bones – he thought while he drove over to Rebecca's house to pick up his son – with Bones things were always predictable. Bones and him had their differences, for sure, had different opinions and certainly very different views about life in general. But Bones would never change her mind about something just in the middle of a conversation, right in the middle of one of their discussions. And she would certainly never act irrationally, struck by a sudden mood swing. Not like Rebecca had done way too many times, canceling at a rather short notice plans he had made about spending time with his son.

Calling Rebecca to asked for an additional day, or at least an additional afternoon, to spend together with Parker he had stuck to that part of the truth – that he really liked to spend as much time possible with his son before Rebecca would move to England and take their son to move to England with her. Furthermore, Pops had become rather frail recently. Visiting Pops today he wanted to bring along Parker, fearing that this could be the last time for Parker to ever see his great-grandfather.

He frowned. He still hated the whole idea of Parker moving to England. Absolutely hated it. But again, he did not have custody of his son. And Rebecca once more had made it very clear that she was the only one to decide about their son's life. When she had informed him about a month ago that she had been offered a job in England and had accepted to move over there – she had not even wanted to discuss her decision to take Parker with her. After a heated but rather short argument he had left her house angry, but above all – entirely miserable. How could Rebecca assume he would be okay with his 10-year old son living thousands of miles away from him? If it hadn't been for Bones and her soothing quiet rational way to see the best even in the worst possible situation he would have stayed angry and certainly much more miserable ever since then. But Bones had been amazing, had immediately started to point out the possibilities of modern communication – that he would be able to talk to Parker via an online messaging program, and that they could even set up a video transmission online. And that by the means of modern communication he would probably even see his son much more than he did right now in his bi-weekly routine to spend time with Parker. Of course it would be different, entirely different, and he would never like the idea of his son living apart from him, but Bones had had a point there. With her suggestions she had even managed to make him feel better. God, he loved her so much. He had told her so. He was such a lucky man to have her love, to start a family with her. To have another child – with which they both were so much in love already.

Being familiar with his history with Rebecca and with his difficulties to take part in his son's life Bones had told him that even though they were not married she wanted to set up joint custody for their child right from the beginning. He would be able to make decisions, would be able to see his second child at all times, he would never face the same dilemma like with Parker. He had kissed her, had told her how much that meant to him. How much she and the baby meant to him. How much he loved them.

Now, while he stopped the car in front of Rebecca's house to pick up Parker he almost wished Bones would have come along, would have been there when he told Parker about their child. But of course, he had to have this conversation with his son alone. He had not even told Parker yet that Bones and him had decided to be more than just professional partners, that they were in love with each other. He knew Parker had always been very fond of Bones, that he adored Bones – but still, he wasn't sure how his son would react to the news of Bones being his father's girlfriend now, let alone to the fact that Bones and him were about to have a baby together. Perhaps Parker would feel left out, would feel that he would love him less when the new baby was going to be there. Which of course he wouldn't. He would never abandon his son nor ever love him less. He would just have to explain all those things to Parker. Would have to find the right words. Though for some reason he felt Bones could explain all that much better to Parker.

Perhaps after having visited Pops they would still find time to meet with her. He imagined Parker would surely come up with some questions for which she was the better person to answer to them.

"Hey Buddy!" He greeted Parker while he held the door of this car open.

"Hi Dad."

He gently patted over Parker's hair while his son got into the car. It was kind of like a ritual between them, a thing he always did. He could not imagine that soon he would not have those bi-weekly Saturday afternoons with his son anymore. Could not imagine how it would be not to see his son for months. A man of his age should not live on his own, should not live far away from his children. Again he was grateful that now Bones was in his life. Living all on his own with even his son thousands and thousands of miles apart he would have ended up utterly lonely and miserable. With Bones and the new baby in his life he had something to look forward to, something to come home to, something beside his work that gave his life a meaning. Thinking about it he smiled when he got into the car. It was time to share the upcoming changes in his life with his son. But how should he start?

"Where are we going?" Parker asked after they both had gotten into the car. "Mum doesn't like it that I am coming with you." He added all matter-of-fact.

"Well yeah, she will survive.." He said and immediately felt angry about himself. He didn't want his son to get caught in the disagreements that he had with his mother. He certainly did not want the boy to hear the cynicism with which he had come to bear Rebecca's partial decisions over the years. "We're going to visit Pops. I have something I wanna talk to you about..." He quickly added.

"Uh-oh." Parker said, suddenly looking sad. "Is it about grandpa? Is grandpa sick?"

"What...?" He asked confused for a second. "No, Pops is fine..."

"Okay." Parker said sounding relieved. "Lasky's granddad just died. And then the whole family had to go and sit around with a lot of other people they didn't know and everyone was dressed in black."

This did not go into the direction he had intended. "Who's Lasky?" He asked Parker rather absent-minded, still contemplating about the best way to tell his son about Bones and the new baby.

"Lasky is my best friend, dad!" Parker protested against his obvious ignorance concerning Parker's life.

He tried hard to remember Lasky. God, what kind of father was he if he didn't even remember his son's best friend! But, if Parker had told him anything about Lasky during last week's weekend he had to admit that he probably would not have paid much attention to it, most of the time being preoccupied thinking about when Bones would be back from Mexico. He had commanded himself not to think about it. Had told himself that he had had every right to be angry about her and her sudden fancy to go to Mexico all alone – still he had not been able to keep himself from thinking about her for the most part of the week, that he had missed her terribly, and that he had been worried about her and their unborn child every single day. And he had not been entirely wrong to worry about her. But last Sunday when she had finally turned up on his doorstep, all wet and completely exhausted, all of the anger had perished at once, his sole concern having been to get her warm and comfortable again. God, the love they hat made in the morning – he would never get enough of making love to her, would never cease to be amazed how much she moved his soul, how much she was the one to make him complete, to make him truly happy.

He forced himself back into reality. He owned his son an explanation, owned his son to know that he loved Bones and that they were going to have a baby together. He did not want Parker to feel left out. "Right. Lasky... The one with the swimming pool...?" He dimly remembered their conversation two, three years ago at the diner, after Parker had basically asked every woman around him whether they wanted to be his father's girlfriend. Out of the blue Parker had come up with the idea his father had been in need of a girlfriend to 'sex up' his life. Only Bones had been the one to question Parker's real motive and thus had found out that Parker had wanted him to get a girlfriend in order to move into a house with a swimming pool. Parker's best friend had moved into a house with a pool when the father had remarried.

Perhaps he and Bones could find a house with a swimming pool to move in together? They had not talked about it yet. For some reason he had felt it had been too early to discuss the matter, had felt she still needed time to adjust to their new situation, had not wanted to complicate matters. But moving in together would certainly have to be addressed before the baby was born. He wanted them to be a real family, wanted them to live together as a family.

"Dad!" He heard Parker protest. "You're not listening..."

"Sorry." He said forcing his attention back from his wandering mind to focus on what his son was saying again.

"Lasky's father got divorced from his stepmom, so they had to move out of the house with the swimming pool..."

"Oh." He said. "I'm sorry to hear that, Buddy." His record of past girlfriends hadn't been exactly successful either. Now, with Bones, things were different though. She wasn't just his girlfriend. They were way beyond that, they knew each other for such a long times. Soulmates, yes, perhaps that was what described their relationship best, soulmates. "Hey, do you wanna go for a swim in the pool at Bones' house in the afternoon?" He asked Parker, silently scolding himself that again his mind had drifted quite easily from talking to his son to thinking about Bones. "We haven't done that in a long time..." He could call Bones and ask her to come, too. This morning she had still been busy tracking down her father. Max had not answered to any of her messages or calls for the past two days. He assumed the meeting she had wanted to set up with Max and Russ for tonight would have to be postponed until Max would reappear.

"Mom wants me to be back at 5..." Parker reminded him. He didn't sound happy about it.

"Right. Ok." He acknowledged. Today he didn't feel like arguing with Parker's mother. Sometimes, when he had been really mad at her in the past he had deliberately brought back Parker an hour or two later than agreed. He knew he was playing on very thin ice. Annoying Rebecca did not make him any more worthwhile as a father in Rebecca's eyes. Still, she had never been very fair when it came to him spending time together with his son. And he could not give in to just anything she decided he was supposed to do – to again and again earn his right to see his son. How many more times would he still have to prove that he was a good father? He sighed.

Parker looked over to him. "Hey Dad, maybe we can go to the pool during the week?" He said cheerful.

"I'd like that, Buddy!" He reached over to pat his son. "We'll ask your mother about it, ok?"

"Cool." Parker seemed to be content again. "Oh... Can Temperance come, too? …She can help me with my homework."

Now, he thought. He had to tell Parker now. This was perfect. Parker loved being with Bones. It would not be such a big surprise to Parker that he was in a relationship with Bones now.

"Yes." He smiled thinking of Bones. "I'm sure she will be happy to help you." He cleared his throat. "Listen Buddy, that's..., er... there's something I wanted to talk to you about..." Jesus, he really did not understand why he felt so nervous about it.

"Uh-oh." Parker said again.

"No." He said quickly. "It's nothing bad... In fact, it's..." He smiled. "...I've been meaning to tell you for quite some time now. I've been seeing B..."

"A girl!" Parker chipped in. "I know."

"You know?" He asked his son confused. How did Parker already know about him and Bones?

"There is a pink toothbrush in your bathroom... And all that stuff..., you know, stuff that girls need..." Parker explained.

"Okay." He said, somewhat relieved. His 10-year-old son obviously had a good eye for details. Parker surely had inherited that from him, he thought proudly.

Of course Bones had left some of her toiletries in his bathroom. He actually liked it. It kind of reminded him that there was a woman in his life now – even when Bones wasn't there. "So... you're okay with it?" He said hesitantly. Silently questioning himself at the same time why he actually needed his son to be okay with him having a new girlfriend? Okay, Parker had not always gotten along well with all of his girlfriends in the past. But surely not even Parker could expect him to live on his own forever.

"Yeah, sure." Parker smiled. "Is she pretty?"

He gulped down his surprise, almost had to smile about Parker's question. "Yes, she's very pretty." He assured Parker.

"Dad, do I have to meet her..?" Parker asked. "...I mean, today? This afternoon? ...Is this why we're visiting granddad?"

He was confused now. If Parker already knew about him and Bones, why was he concerned about having to meet with Bones? Unless... "Parker, it is Bones! I've been seeing Bones – I mean, Dr. Brennan... We..." He stopped. How could he explain that after working together with Bones for so many years their relationship now had taken a romantic turn? "...We've found out that we want to be more than just partners, that we want to be together." He explained. Finally, finally, it was all out. "Of course, I thought we are going to meet with her this afternoon. But only if you want to..." He looked over to Parker, tried to pick up Parker's reaction.

"Cool. Temperance is cool." Parker said. He opened the zipper of his backpack, took out a chewing gum. "Dad, why did Temperance say she couldn't date you because she was working with you?" He then asked.

He dimly remembered their conversation. Asking every woman around him if she wanted to be his father's girlfriend of course Parker back then had also asked Bones. If he recalled correctly she had called a romantic relationship between them 'unethical' back then. And perhaps in a way from the FBI's point of view it was. He had spent some time during the last weeks working out what regulations applied in regard to a romantic relationship between an FBI agent and a consultant to the FBI, however so far he had not come up with anything. The FBI did not seem to regulate relationships to external consultants. He did not know if that was a good thing for him and Bones. Perhaps the matter was so complicated that he simply hadn't found the applicable statute yet. If Bones had been another FBI agent they both would be in serious trouble now. Dating another agent was a no go, impregnating another agent was... well, he didn't even want to go there and imagine the consequences for that. He sighed. "It's complicated, Parker." He said. "...You cannot ask the heart not to love someone just because you work with that person."

Parker looked at him in bewilderment. Perhaps the matter was too complicated for a 10-year-old to be thoroughly understood.

"Look, Parker. When you're older, and you've met the right girl... you will know when to follow your heart, buddy." He patted over Parker's head again. Hopefully Parker still had a lot of time until he would find out how complicated love sometimes could turn out to be.

"Uh – girls... Not interested in them." Parker grimaced. "They are all so silly."

He laughed. "One day you will change your mind about that.."

"When I have hair under my armpit...?"

"Yes. That definitely comes first." He smiled. He loved those conversations with his son. But he would sadly miss them.

"Then I don't want to have any hair under my armpit." Parker declared.

He just smiled. What could he possibly reply to that. Parker surely still had some time to change his mind about all those 'silly' girls. His big boy. He was so proud of Parker. He knew Parker would be a great older brother to the new baby.

He sighed. "Parker, there's something else... Bones and I, we..." He looked for the right words.

"Will you get married?" Parker asked.

"No." He said rather too quickly. "I mean... it's too soon to decide about that..." God. This went completely wrong. Of course they would not get married. Bones did not believe in marriage and he accepted that. What went wrong here was that he had literally told his boy that it was too early to marry Bones – how could he then ever possibly explain to Parker how it was okay to have a baby with Bones right away. He did want Parker to believe in the Christian values, in the values of their Catholic belief. How could he ever accomplish that if he himself did not live up to them, if he himself had screwed up with the natural order of things. Again. Another child out of wedlock. Well, what was done was done. He did not regret having conceived a baby with Bones, not for one second. He did however regret that again his belief did not fit in with the way things happened in his life. He would not be allowed to go to confession, would not be able to ask for absolution. Well, that didn't matter right now. Those were parts of his belief too complicated to be understood by a 10-year-old boy anyway. No, what he had to make sure right now was that Parker was okay with him and Bones having a baby together, that Parker would not feel left out. But first he had to tell him. "Bones and I..., we, we are going to have a baby... In February." He added nervously. There, he had said it. He almost did not dare to look over to Parker. Was this too much of a shock?

"A real baby?" Parker asked.

"Yes. You can come to visit us and play with your little brother or sister..." He tried to sound cheerful, hoped that Parker would be okay with it.

"Lasky's little brother didn't play. He only slept and cried all the time when he was awake." Parker said.

"Well, you know. Little babies need to sleep a lot because they still need to grow. But later, when they are a bit older they love to play with their older siblings..." His mobile phone rang. He fetched it out of his pocket quickly looking over to his son if Parker was okay. "Booth." He answered the phone without having looked onto the display.

"Hi Booth. It's me." Bones said. "I talked to Dad..."

"Bones. Hey." He said looking over to his son again. Parker chewed on his gum.

"I'm gonna meet with Dad and Russ at 5.30 at the 1789 in Georgetown." Bones told him.

"Whoa, that's an expensive place..." He said. He had never been there. The prices they charged were above his budget and certainly far above what he was willing to spend for a decent meal.

"Yes, but they have the most excellent cuisine of all Washington, Maryland and Virginia. You will need a jacket, the restaurant requires formal attire..." Bones said.

"Me?" He asked surprised. "I thought it is going to be a family meeting..."

"But you are family now!" Bones emphasized. "Booth, I..." She hesitated. "...I'd like you to be there when I talk to Dad. Will you come?"

"Bones." His voice was thick, suddenly hoarse with emotion. This was the first time she had ever spoken of him as family. "All right, okay." He said and cleared his throat. "I think I can make it to the restaurant until 6, if that's okay with you... I'm in the car with Parker, we're on our way to Pops."

"Hi Temperance!" Parker said leaning over towards him to be nearer to his mobile phone.

"Hi Parker!" Bones replied.

"Bones says 'hi'." He repeated to his son. He saw Parker indicating to give him the phone. "Bones, Parker wants to talk to you.." He handed over the phone. It surely was a good sign that Parker wanted to talk directly to Bones.

"Dad says you're going to have a baby..." He heard Parker say. "...Can I have a little baby brother?" Parker sounded excited. "Dad can play hockey with both of us and I can teach him how to make fire without a match!"

He felt himself relax. He did not needed to have worried. Parker would be okay.

"Hey Shrimp!" The older man greeted him when he got out of the car. Pops appeared to have already been waiting for them outside in the yard.

He looked at his watch. Traffic had not been too dense. No, they were not late. "Hey Pops!" He embraced his grandfather, eyed him sharply. Pops had gotten even more frail since he had seen him the last time. He definitely need to come to visit Pops more often. Perhaps next time he could ask Bones to come along with him.

"Hi Granddad!" Parker came around from the other side of the car to meet them. Parker hugged his great-grandfather, too.

"Easy!" Pops demanded. "You don't want break the brittle bones of your old granddad.." He laughed patting Parker's back. "Look at that boy!" He said turned to Booth. "He must have grown at least three inch since I saw him the last time!"

He saw the happiness on Pops' face and vowed to definitely visit Pops much more often, to bring Parker along as often as he still could. And maybe, when the little one would be born and Parker was living far away in England he then would bring Bones and the baby. Because this was his family, the people he loved the most. This was exactly what family was all about.

"Dad, can we go to the park?" Parker then asked and ended the sentimental atmosphere which had somehow captured Pops and him.

"Yeah. Sure." He replied. "Pops...?" He waited for the older man to agree. He knew that Pops did not like to walk for miles and miles anymore, but a little stroll through the park in the sun together with his grandson and great-grandson would certainly do him good. And he had things he wanted to talk to Pops about.

Parker went ahead. He made sure he always kept an eye on Parker. His profession had told him to be watchful. You never knew.

"I received a letter from Jared the day before yesterday." Pops said, pulling out the letter from the pocket of his shirt. "Perhaps you'd like to read it... He's in Nepal now."

"Right." He said. "Anything interesting to see or do in Nepal...?" He asked, knowing that his mind was so full with the things he needed to talk to Pops about. What Jared was doing in Nepal at this moment really was his last concern right now. Jared was probably searching for some Buddhist enlightenment which he would never be able to relate to anyway. Well, as long as it kept Jared from drinking he was fine with Jared searching whatever spiritual thing Jared needed to find in Asia.

"Well, he sounds quite cheerful. I think he's over the broken engagement with that girl now..." Pops said taking out his glasses as well.

"Padme..." The name slipped out of his month without him actually wanting to mention her. Apparently when it came to getting married he and his brother had an equally bad record of broken relationships.

"Yes." Pops said. "Now Seeley, you said on the phone that there's something you wanted to talk about." He watched Pops putting back his glasses into his pocket without actually having used them to read the letter.

He breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like he was spared having to read Jared's letter from Nepal after all. "Yes." He couldn't help but smile. Surely Pops would be has happy as him about the new baby. "I..."

"Dad can I have some ice cream?" Parker came back towards them.

"Parker we'll be eating lunch soon..." He objected.

"Yeah, but I need to grow. I need to be strong for my new brother or sister!" Parker said.

Baffled by his son's logic he could not help but smile. His son was a real charmer. He reached for his wallet. "Okay Buddy." He took out a five dollar note. "Stay in sight, ok?"

"Thanks dad!"

They watched Parker stroll over the lawn towards the ice cream truck. He thought Pops looked exhausted from the walking and indicated him to sit down on the nearest bench.

Pops gratefully accepted. A moment they sat in silence until Pops had caught back his breath. "So, Rebecca is going to have another child then..." Pops stated.

"What...?" He asked puzzled. "No." He said. "...I mean, not that I know of..." He added hesitantly.

"...Because the boy said he's going to have a little brother or sister." Pops said.

"Oh. That..." Relieve flooded through him. He almost smiled. "No Pops, that has got nothing to do with Rebecca." He added. "I..." He chuckled. "I am going to have another child... Not with Rebecca." He felt compelled to add rather quickly.

"I did not think so. I told you Rebecca wasn't good for you a long time ago." Pops said eying him sternly for a moment. Then his expression changed. "Another child, huh?" Pops smiled and squeezed his arm affectionately, then patted over his back.

He smiled proudly. "Your going to be great-granddad again." He said happily. He knew how important family was to Pops. And now there would be a new addition to the family soon. It felt good to just sit there with Pops and share his happiness. He wondered if he should have brought along Bones.

"I didn't know you were seeing any woman since you broke up with that blonde one..." Pops said after a while.

"Yeah, I..."

"You need a real woman, Shrimp! Not a child like the last one!" Pops emphasized.

He smiled. Bones definitely was a real woman. Pops had liked her. She had 'ovaries', as she had put it back then.

"So, when will you bring her over for me to meet her..?" Pops asked.

He couldn't help but grin. "Actually, you do already know her... Remember my partner..., Dr. Brennan?"

"Temperance?" Pops asked. "Temperance is pregnant?" Pops chuckled. "Oh-ho. Didn't I tell you, it's all in the heart!"

"Yes. You told me. ...You were right." He answered.

Pops looked over to him, eying him closely. "Well, what took you so long then to follow your heart..."


End file.
